


Something to Believe In

by FinnsKeeper



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Empire Siblings - Freeform, Found Family, Gen, Inter-related One-Shots, Mighty Nein, Team Bonding, Team Human, canon-typical trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 33,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinnsKeeper/pseuds/FinnsKeeper
Summary: An inside look at the growing friendship between Beau and Caleb, featuring The Mighty Nein. Lots of found family feels and empire siblings. Each chapter is a continuation of sorts, either mid or post episode, and can be read separately.Ch 21: 2x123 - Fair-Weather FaithAfter a narrow escape from their midnight battle with the Tombtakers, Caleb and Beau take stock and seek comfort.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast
Comments: 187
Kudos: 418





	1. 2x08 - The Gates of Zadash

Beau scanned the darkness in front of her slowly, alert for any sign of danger. Behind her, the fire crackled low as Nott put another log on the pile then crept off in the opposite direction to check on the other side of their little camp. The clearing had been a lucky find by Molly as they’d stopped for the evening, and the closely knit treeline protected them from the worst of the fierce winds rolling across the fields. They had just left Alfield, laden with supplies and more coin than they had ever had in their lives. Beau felt the unfamiliar weight of her coin purse at her back and remembered her companions’ faces when Watchmaster Bryce had handed over the enormous sum. 

_We earned it_ , Beau snarked silently. She was pretty sure she’d almost died way too many times in the last few days, and the lingering soreness in her muscles reminded her just how lucky they had all been. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the idea of doing this for a while, just traveling from place to place, busting a few heads and earning heaps of gold. It was better than her alternatives at the moment, even if her traveling companions were a bit...eclectic.

A noise drew her from her thoughts and she turned her head slowly to try and pinpoint the source. For a moment there was only silence, then it came again—a soft grunt, as if someone had gotten the wind knocked from their lungs. It was a sound Beau was familiar with, and as it reached her ears a third time she realized the sound was coming from _behind_ her. She whirled suddenly, ready to punch the shit out of whoever dared to ambush them in the middle of the night, but no threat presented itself. 

The sleeping forms of her companions remained stretched out on the ground around the fire. She could easily identify them all just by shape from her nights spent watching over them as they slept. Fjord was lying on his back, his hands folded on his chest as he snored loudly. Molly was lying on his stomach, his ostentatious coat acting like a second blanket against the creeping cold night air. Jester was lying close to them both, a small smile playing on her face, probably dreaming about the best tricks to play on them when they all woke. Caleb slept further from the group, barely close enough to be considered a part of their little camp. He was curled up on his side, one arm under his head and the other tucked into the curve of his body protectively. There was a smaller bedroll in front of him overlapping a bit with his own, empty now that Nott was on watch. 

Beau glanced around again, searching for anything that could explain the sound she’d heard. Silence crept on and on, until…

 _There_.

Movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn, but it was just Caleb. He had kicked out, jostling inside his bedroll as he frowned deeply in his slumber. Then it came again, a low grunt that slipped past his lips, then a soft murmur of something unrecognizable. He thrashed again, dislodging his blanket as a strangled cry escaped his throat, and Beau realized what was happening.

“Oh, for the love of—”

It was bad enough she had to deal with his surliness during the day, though she probably should have guessed a man that looked as terribly haunted as Caleb Widogast would suffer from nightmares. She thought about going over there to kick him awake before he woke the whole camp, but before she could even move, another figure appeared at his back.

Nott knelt down and ran a small green hand over Caleb’s greasy hair. She leaned down and whispered something to him, and the deep frown on his forehead relaxed ever so slightly. He eventually stopped thrashing and settled, quiet and still though his expression was still pained. Nott stayed a few more moments, petting his head softly and murmuring something too quiet for Beau to hear.

She felt a stab of guilt at intruding on what was obviously a private moment, but before she could turn back to her watch and pretend she hadn’t seen anything, Nott looked up and locked eyes with her. The goblin was hard to read, but Beau thought she looked...well not upset, really, but maybe a little nervous. Did she think Beau would tell Caleb about this? _Not likely_ , Beau snorted and turned back to reclaim her position against a tree to resume her watch. After several long moments of silence, Beau thought Nott might have just gone back to her own watch. But then a small form shuffled over and plopped down next to her and Beau realized she wasn’t that lucky.

“They’re not always bad,” Nott said quietly, mindful of their still slumbering companions.

“Didn’t ask,” Beau grunted.

“No,” Nott agreed, “but you’re wondering about it anyway. Caleb would be...embarrassed if he knew that you knew, but it’s not like he can hide them forever. He gets bad dreams sometimes, some worse than others.”

“Like that?” Beau jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, unable to help but glance at the now still wizard. He looked—well, not peaceful, exactly, but not distressed any longer. 

“Oh no,” Nott shook her head. “That was a mild one.”

“What do the bad ones look like?” The question was out before she could bite it back. Beau’s curiosity had gotten her into more trouble than she could count, both at home and at the Cobalt Soul. She didn’t really want to know because she was worried about Caleb; it was more like a _professional_ concern. If she was going to be traveling with these people, she needed to know if there were things that were going to make her life more difficult—like a wizard with night terrors who could give away their position.

Nott didn’t answer her for a while. Then, “Depending on how long we travel together, you might get a chance to find out.” That didn’t sound good, and Beau didn’t really know how to go about asking for further details. So she didn’t.

“What did you do? Just now, I mean. It seemed to...calm him down?”

“I just...talked to him.”

“What did you say?”

“I don’t know.” Beau glanced over sharply at her companion, who let out a sigh that seemed much too large for her tiny body. “He sometimes speaks in his own language, in Zemnian, when he’s upset. It’s worse when he’s asleep and he can’t control it. I just...repeat some of it back to him.”

“But you have no idea what you’re saying?” Beau asked bluntly. “What if you’re telling him some pretty terrible things?”

“It’s not the words, I don’t think. It’s the tone. And the language, maybe? He responds better to it than Common.” Nott stiffened beside her and she scrambled to her feet. “Please don’t tell him I told you any of this. He would be very upset with me if he knew.”

“No worries,” Beau chuckled. “It’s not like I have heart to heart chats with the guy. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Nott considered her words for a moment, then nodded stiffly. “Back to watch, then.” She disappeared into the darkness, her small form vanishing amid the tree line easily. Beau watched her as long as she could, mulling over this newest piece of information about the normally closed off wizard. She didn’t _care_ about him, she told herself, it was just...information. Information was a good tool, and the more she had the safer she felt. 

Beau stood to walk a circuit around the camp, her footfalls nearly as silent as Nott’s had been. And if she lingered just a fraction longer on Caleb’s side of camp to make sure he was being quiet, well, no one was the wiser.


	2. 2x19 - The Gentleman's Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau reflects on the events in Zadash and new revelations about Caleb's history.

Zadash faded behind them, the heavy hoof falls of their six horses drowned out by the rolling of their now-heavier cart. Jester was up front at the reins, leaving the rest of them in the back or on the spare horses. Beau kept Loaf alongside the cart, glancing over now and again at Caleb and Nott bundled up next to their supplies. Beyond the wooden slats on the far side, Molly sat on Water-Closet reminiscing with Yasha.

“Is it dinner time yet?” Beau asked loudly.

“ _Nein_ ,” Caleb answered. “It’s almost three hours before dusk.”

Beau grunted. “Dammit, I’m hungry.”

Jester turned in her seat and grinned brightly. “Don’t you have any more pocket bacon?”

“Maybe.” Beau dug into her pockets and felt around for anything to quell the gnawing ache in her stomach. She found a small strip of dark dried meat that didn’t look too moldy and she chewed on it thoughtfully as they continued northeast on the Bromkiln Byway toward the Labenda Swamp. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Caleb flipping through the notes he’d scribbled down after their trip to the Archive. He’d committed it all to memory already, so she guessed he was just trying to keep his mind occupied on the long trek. 

Beau recalled the haunted, bleak expression he’d worn as he spoke about his horrible past. It lingered now beneath shaky words and not-quite-smiles, but he was so normally reclusive that the others didn’t seem to notice the change. But Beau did. She would never forget the way his voice had remained eerily emotionless as he told her and Nott about the night of his parents’ deaths, and how one powerful man had taken three innocent children and twisted them into terrible tools for the Empire. 

_“He made you executioners?” Beau couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. She’d known something was wrong with this irritable, dirty asshole, but she wouldn’t have ever guessed it was something this fucked up._

_Caleb wouldn’t look at her, his blue eyes focused on some middle space as he answered. “We wanted to be.”_

_Definitely very fucked up. She told him so._

If she was being entirely honest with herself, Beau had expected him and Nott to be gone the day after their library trip. The two of them had been on third watch together, and she’d been fully prepared to wake up to a group of five. But then Caleb had shaken her awake, muttering something under his breath that she hadn’t quite heard. It hadn’t been anything she recognized, though it was just as likely her early morning brain fog as it was a language barrier.

“Beauregard?” Caleb’s soft voice pulled her out of her own head and back to the quickly chilling afternoon.

“Huh? What do you want?”

Caleb wasn’t fazed by her abrasiveness, which was actually one of the reasons she was beginning to like him. Appreciate him. _Whatever_.

“I asked if you had any more of your pocket bacon. Nott’s growling stomach is making it difficult for me to concentrate.”

“Uh, yeah.” Beau dove into her pockets again and pulled out the more moldy pieces she’d bypassed earlier. The goblin hadn’t seemed to care before, so she passed them over now to Caleb’s outstretched hand.

“ _Danke_.”

Beau wished she knew how to reply in Zemnian, just to see the shock on his face. But her training at the Archive hadn’t included that particular language, so she just stammered awkwardly as usual.

“Uh, sure. Yeah. You’re welcome.”


	3. 2x23 - Have Bird, Will Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb deals with the aftermath of the troll in the swamp, as well as his disagreement with Beauregard.

Caleb’s mind slid back into focus just as Beauregard stepped in front of him. The familiar sights and sounds of the Labenda Swamp crashed into him at once. He winced— _the sun is blinding through the canopy, and the world is too loud, always too loud_ —as the smell of burning troll stung his nostrils and he shook his head twice in an effort to rid himself of the last of the haziness.

“Here,” his friend— _Is that what she is now? A friend? How long can that last?_ —thrust two waterskins toward him. “This one is water, this one is booze.”

Despite the ache in his throat, he reached for the second one. It burned, but the pleasant warmth of the alcohol was enough to ground him. Beau opened the other, splashing the end of her monk’s sash with water and reaching up to dab at his forehead.

_Remember when Mutti used to do that? Back when you were a normal child with skinned knees and a dirty face? She used to fuss over you quite a bit and—_

“You alright?”

Caleb blinked. “ _Ja_.”

She hovered for a moment as if making sure he didn’t collapse into a pile at her feet— _you’re weak, a liability_ —then sighed. 

“Cool.” It was stilted and forced. She was still tiptoeing around him due to their earlier spat about the bowl. _Is she mad that I hugged her? Is that something friends do?_ He felt an odd urge to reach out and let her know he didn’t begrudge her; despite her rather violent means, her intentions had been noble, at least. He just wished she thought things through a bit more, rather than rushing into things headlong. They were a study in opposites in that way, and Caleb wondered— _not for the first time_ —how he had fallen in with such eclectic people.

_It won’t last. Can’t last. You need to leave before they realize your failures_.

Caleb followed Beauregard back to the others.

They were all huddled around the makeshift campfire Beau and Yasha had created with a badly thrown oil flask. The others were still fussing over Fjord, who looked just a few feet from death’s door. Jester was keeping a close eye on him, ready to intervene with more healing spells if he looked like he was going to fall unconscious again. 

Nott crept up next to him, her head near his shoulder as he sat on a fallen tree. “How are you, Caleb?”

“Good,” he smiled reassuringly at her— _take care of her, she is precious_ —despite the ache still in his head. “Good.”

The others turned their rather focused attention on him, and Caleb shied away. He hated being the center of attention (it was sort of a cardinal rule for wizards, really) and hated being coddled even more. Thankfully, Fjord pushed them back on track and within just a few more hours they were back in the small swamp town of Berleben. The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur for him, though he knows he tried (and failed) to charm the bartender into telling him the name of her book at some point. After drinks and food, Caleb retreated to their meager accommodations at the Drowned Nest. 

Nott was still carousing with the others, leaving Caleb alone with his thoughts. He laid down on the only bed, careful to leave room near his feet for his goblin friend to curl up and sleep. He’d need to get up when she arrived to set the alarm spell— _protect them, be useful and they might keep you around_ —but the exhaustion of the day was slowly creeping up and he closed his eyes for a moment to rest.

_Three orange beams of flame erupted from the palm of his hand, swirling out and roaring toward their target. The troll seemed smaller now that he was running away, but the image of Fjord lying face down in the swamp and the memory of Beau being dragged off by the corrosive beast erased any regret Caleb might have felt as the three rays of fire slammed into its back._

_It didn’t scream. There was no time. From this distance, Caleb could see the grotesque features contort in pain, but no sound escaped. The flames blackened the already bloated and discolored skin around its neck and chest, charring it to ash. It fell to its knees, then toppled into a smoldering pile seconds later._

He jolted awake as a hand fell to his shoulder, an incantation slipping from his tongue reflexively. Strong fingers clamped down over his wrists, stilling the somatic portion of the spell and cutting off the arcane energy before it had a chance to escape.

“Easy, dude. Easy.” Beau’s gruff voice cut through the panic and he lurched away from her. “You’re okay. Breathe, man.” She didn’t come any closer but she didn’t move away either, her hands outstretched in a placating posture. “You’re okay,” she repeated.

“Why are you in here?” His voice was raw and rough— _why do you care?_ —and it took only a moment’s concentration to tell him the time. It was well after dark and Nott was nowhere to be found. His worry must have been evident on his face, because Beau answered his silent question before the one he’d asked aloud.

“Nott’s in with Jester and Kiri and Yasha swapping girl stories. Well,” she amended quickly, “Nott and Jester are talking, Kiri is repeating phrases she absolutely should not know, and Yasha is largely ignoring them. But the room’s full. I stayed up with Fjord because Jester’s spells made him all jittery. He just crashed in his and Molly’s room a few minutes ago, and I came looking for a slice of floor to sleep on. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“ _Ja_ , it’s okay.” He rolled to his feet and dug through his pack for his silver thread. Keeping his companions in his mind— _you can do this for them, at least_ —he set the alarm spell around the door as Beau unfurled her bedroll just beneath the window. Caleb wouldn’t tell her, but he felt a bit safer with her perched beneath the unguarded entrance to the room. 

When they finally settled back into their respective beds, Caleb rolled to his side to face Beau. “How are you feeling?”

“What? Why are you asking?” She frowned and punched at her pillow angrily.

“You said earlier that we are friends, _ja_?” Caleb pointed out. “Don’t friends check in with each other?”

“I mean, yes?” Beau was laying on her back with her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m fine.” There was a very long pause, then, “You?”

“I’m good.” He waited, counting his own heartbeats in the silence. When he reached _zehn_ he took a breath. “Are we good?” 

_What do you want the answer to be? No? Would that make it easier to leave?_

“Yeah, man. We’re good.” 

Caleb rolled away from her and drifted back to sleep.


	4. 2x26 - Found and Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau takes steps to connect with Caleb in the aftermath of their friends' disappearance.

Beau managed to claim a corner of the cart on their way out of town, her prize secreted away within the folds of her monk’s raiments. Nott sat in the driver’s seat with Jester, each of them holding one side of the reins and giggling to each other about their adventures in Hupperdook and marveling at the goblin’s new crossbow. Yasha, Fjord and Molly sat happily atop their steeds, but Caleb glowered as he ushered Crapper back onto the path for the fourth time. The smallest of the four horses kept trying to detour to the yellowing grasses on the side of the road, and Caleb was having a little difficulty keeping him on track. Beau felt a bit guilty, but her own giddiness at enacting phase one of her plan overshadowed any lingering remorse at usurping Caleb’s usual ride. 

As they left Hupperdook and made their way further north, the others became enraptured in their own conversations, leaving Beau free to begin. From within her robes she pulled the small, battered book that looked like it had been through more scrapes than Beau had. The spine was broken and creased, and most of the pages had scribbles or marks of some kind. Half of the paper cover was torn away, revealing a wrinkled and water-stained title page. 

_Manser’s Magic Guide to Learning Zemnian_

Beau smiled as she flipped to the first lesson. 

*******************

They were gone. Yasha, Fjord and Jester had just disappeared in the middle of the night. And now they had this dwarf woman who was far too much like Beau for her own comfort, and they were off to stop some kind of trafficking ring and get their friends back. 

Beau sighed and stretched her arms and legs out as far as they would go in an effort to shake the weariness from them. They’d done nothing but travel all day after leaving the firbolg woman and her charge, and Beau’s ass was sore from being on the horse for so long. She glanced over to where Molly was patrolling the perimeter on the opposite side of camp, every muscle in his body tensed and alert. Their little game of secrets hadn’t lasted long, and the moment it was over they were up and scouting. No one would catch them off-guard again.

“ _Nein...bitte...nicht mehr._ ”

The mumbling was too soft to carry across the camp, but Beau had been keeping a closer eye on the wizard ever since his little episode in the swamp and the nightmare that had followed. Nott was bundled up in as many layers as she could get her hands on, and had fallen asleep almost immediately after waking Beau and Molly for their watch. It was unlikely the goblin would hear her friend’s distress, even as close as she was to Caleb.

“Fuck,” Beau whispered and moved quietly to kneel by Caleb’s bedroll. “Easy there, bud. You’re okay.”

His face was pulled into a deep frown, his hands clenched tight into his coat as he shivered from more than just the cold night air. He muttered something else that Beau didn’t quite catch, then sucked in a deep breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob as he repeated his plea.

“ _Mutti._ ”

Panic set in as Beau’s aversion to what she’d coined “the gooey stuff” fought with a deep-seated instinct to protect the friends she had left. After a quick glance to make sure Molly was still busy on patrol, Beau leaned down and placed her hand on Caleb’s forehead.

“You’re okay,” she told him quietly. “Uh... _du_... _bist_...shit, what’s the Zemnian word for okay?” Apparently she hadn’t reached the part in her language book that dealt with comforting friends during gruesome nightmares. _Probably a later chapter._

“Safe, Caleb. You’re safe. I’m...Nott’s right here.” She carefully pried Caleb’s hand from his coat, wincing at the dried, cracked knuckles that were starting to bleed a little from the cold. She laid it over the small goblin tucked against his far side, hoping that the physical reminder of Nott’s presence would calm him. It helped a little, though he still wore that horribly pained expression that never seemed to fully leave his face. 

“You’re alright,” she repeated. “Just...I need you to hold it together, okay? We’ve already lost Fjord and Jester and Yasha. We can’t lose you, too.”

When it looked like he was past the worst of it, Beau stood up and backed away. Keg snored on, oblivious to the wizard’s distress as Beau returned to her post. When it was time to swap, she intercepted Molly on his way to Caleb’s bedroll. 

“I’ll wake him,” she offered. “You grab some sleep.” She wasn’t sure why she felt so strongly about it, but something in her didn’t want Molly to find out about Caleb’s nightmares. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him—Molly was a dick, just not about stuff like this—but she thought that Caleb might not want everyone to know.

“You sure?” Molly didn’t sound suspicious of her motives, which Beau was grateful for. The last thing she needed was the tiefling poking and prodding with his annoyingly perceptive wit into her personal thoughts. When she nodded in answer, he just shrugged and stepped his way over to his own bedroll stretched out next to Keg. Once he was bedded down, Beau knelt down next to Caleb and laid her hand on his shoulder.

“Wake up.” She shook him gently, then a little more roughly when he didn’t stir. “Hey, come man. I wanna go to sleep.”

“Beauregard?” His accent was thicker just after waking, before the grogginess wore off. She’d never tell him so, but it was a little more endearing than the soft lilt he normally used. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Time for third watch.” She sat back and waited for him to sit up. “You sure you’re gonna be okay on your own?” She hated leaving _anyone_ on watch by themselves, but Caleb was particularly prone to introspection at the exact wrong time. The last thing they needed was their only set of eyes zoning out and leaving them all exposed. 

“ _Ja_ , I will be fine.” He carefully extricated himself from Nott’s grasp and stood. He looked down and hesitated for a moment, as though he wanted to ask something but was unsure how to say it.

“Just spit it out, man.” 

“Would you...sleep here? Next to Nott, I mean. I don’t want to leave her so exposed to the elements.” There was something he wasn’t saying, but it was easy enough to figure out. He didn’t want to leave her alone.

“You want me to cuddle with Nott?” Beau snorted. “Alright man, but if she gets bitey in the middle of the night—”

“No, no, it will be fine.” Caleb stepped back to let Beau lay down on his own bedroll. “Thank you.”

“ _Bitte._ ”

He reacted immediately, but it wasn’t the pleasant shock she had expected. He reeled back and frowned, his blue eyes full of a suspicion she hadn’t seen in a long time. “How long have you been able to speak Zemnian?”

“I can’t,” Beau admitted quickly. “Just picked up a few words here and there from listening to you.” He didn’t believe her, she could see it in the tightening of his shoulders. He was withdrawing from her, both physically and mentally and Beau panicked. “Alright,” she deflated and reached into her deep pocket, pulling the small paperback from within. She tossed it to him, unsurprised when he fumbled and dropped it. As he stooped to retrieve it, she saw the moment his eyes caught sight of the title.

“What is this?”

“A book,” she replied dryly. 

His return glare was equally dry. “Yes, thank you. What I meant was,” he bit out, “why do you have it?”

Half a dozen lies passed through her mind in an instant, ranging from the absurd ( _I found it in the prison_ ) to the cruel ( _I wanted to know if you’re talking about us behind our backs_ ). All of them died on her lips when she saw the mixture of hope and fear on his face. 

“I thought…” she sucked in a sharp breath, the cold air biting at her lungs and driving out the uncomfortable emotion rising in her chest. “I mean, I just thought that you might...I wanted to... _ugh_ , I hate this.”

Caleb’s breath fogged in the frigid cold air once, then twice as he stared back. His words, when they finally came, were soft and almost inaudible, as though he was speaking to himself rather than to her. “You’re learning it...for me?”

“Don’t read too much into it,” she barked back defensively. “I mostly just wanted to learn how to cuss you out when you’re being an asshole.”

Caleb paused, his face inscrutable in the dim firelight. “ _Arschloch_.” 

Beau tried to replicate the same inflection he’d used but she mangled it horribly. “No, wait, I’ll get it.” She tried again, and Caleb smiled.

“Close enough for now. Have a good rest, Beauregard.”

He stepped away from her and turned to take up his post, and a soft hoot from somewhere off in the distance heralded owl-Frumpkin’s first sweeping patrol for the night.

Beau laid down next to Nott, nestling into the small amount of lingering warmth in Caleb’s blankets. “Good night, Caleb.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _Nein...bitte...nicht mehr._ (No...please...no more.)


	5. 2x30 - The Journey Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord, Jester and Yasha have been recovered, but doing so has taken a terrible toll on the Mighty Nein. On the trip back to Zadash, Beau and Caleb talk in the wake of Molly's death.

Beau looked out the window at the passing scenery as their small caravan traveled southward back toward Zadash. It looked a lot less daunting now, though nothing had really changed other than the heavier dust of snow on the ground. She hadn’t expected the sudden interrogation from Caleb earlier, but strangely she felt better after their little talk. It felt weird to talk about her past, but she supposed if anyone had earned a bit of her trust it was him. He’d really stepped up in the last few days and taken charge in the absence of their friends, and his plan had ended with the successful retrieval of their comrades and the end of their enemies. 

Beau’s sharp mind easily recalled the image of Lorenzo’s face as it crumbled to ash and smoke. Caleb had been fierce in that fight, more focused and resilient in a way that she hadn’t seen before. Twice she had been afraid they’d lost him, the memory of that terrifying warrior woman blistering and burning away fresh in her mind. But he’d held it together, and now their little band was whole again.

 _Not entirely whole_.

The phantom echo of a delighted laugh and the tinkling of jewelry threatened to overwhelm her, but she pushed through it and turned toward her traveling buddy. He was staring out the opposite window, elbow propped on his knee and his chin resting in the palm of his hand. She couldn’t tell if he was actually looking at anything or if he was inside his own mind, but she spoke anyway.

“You okay?”

“ _Sag es bitte auf Zemni_.” He didn’t look at her, and his words were muffled a bit by his fingers.

“Huh?”

He straightened slightly, still angled away from her. “In Zemnian, please. You should practice what you are learning.”

“Oh, uh…” Beau racked her brain, trying to dig up the few phrases she’d committed to memory. At the time, she’d glossed over the “niceties” section in her book, but a few had stuck against her will. “ _Wie...Wie geht es...der_?”

“ _Dir_ ,” he corrected softly. “ _Gut, danke_. I am okay.”

“It’s just...that was a lot of fire back there in the Nest and I thought…” 

He sat back in his seat and glanced at her briefly before shifting his gaze to stare at the far side of the carriage. “I am fine, Beauregard. We stopped very bad people from doing very bad things, and we saved those that had been taken. It was...well, not a good day but better than recent ones.”

“We were due one, weren’t we?”

At that he chuckled and let his head fall back against the cushioned rest. “ _Ja_ , I think we were.” 

It was probably the most at ease she’d ever felt with him. He was the only other human in the group—not that _that_ mattered, really—and the only other one who had grown up as part of the Empire. They’d had their fair share of disagreements in the past (and then some, if she were being completely honest) but now she couldn’t imagine traveling without him. She felt an odd sort of kinship with this gangly, skittish wizard and had to suddenly fight the urge to reach out and pat his arm. Instead, she took a breath to continue their conversation, but a sharp rapping from the front of the caravan cut her off. 

“We’ll stop here, I think,” Ophelia’s voice called from within her carriage. The carts jostled slightly as they made their way off the road, and Beau knew the moment was over. Just before she opened the door to step out, she made a quick decision and laid her hand on Caleb’s arm to give him a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you, I mean... _danke_. For everything you did back there. We wouldn’t have made it without you.”

Caleb was taken aback by her forthright sincerity, and he blinked owlishly back and forth between her face and her hand on his arm. “I did very little, in the long run,” he said flatly. 

“Are you fucking serious? I mean, even ignoring all the blasting and shit that took out two of them, including Lorenzo, it was your plan that got us in there. It was your plan that got our friends back. What did my plan get us? It got...got Molly killed. It almost got _all_ of us—” Her throat closed over her words and tears stung her eyes as she wrenched her hand back and turned away from him.

“Beauregard,” his voice was low and even, the way it got when he edged too close to an emotionally charged topic. He waited until she’d turned back to face him before continuing. “Mollymauk’s death was not your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except the _Drecksau_ who killed him. And we took care of him. _You_ made that possible, with your...abilities.” He pantomimed tiny little jabs that drew a smile from her. “It was your battle skills that saw us through, you and Nott and Keg.” He paused, then cleared his throat gently. “Speaking of Keg, I never did ask. How was your—”

“Nope.” All of Beau’s earlier self-pity was gone in an instant, erased by the sudden rush of embarrassment at his awkward but well-meaning attempt at bonding. “Nuh uh. We are not talking about this.” Beau turned and bolted out of the carriage, ignoring the concerned looks of the others as she stalked away. As she retreated she heard him mutter after her.

“Good talk. _Ja_.”

*****************************

Beau climbed back into the carriage wiping at the freeze-dried tears on her cheeks. Her skin was cold and clammy from the biting wind, but when she shivered it was more than just the frigid air. She expected Caleb to be right behind her, but he didn’t come back from their impromptu vigil at Molly’s grave right away. She didn’t know if that was on purpose, if he was giving her space to collect herself, but she appreciated the moment alone anyway. She settled onto the cushioned seat and laid her head back against the wall of the carriage as the memory of Mollymauk’s last breath replayed in her head. 

_Beau watched in horror as the razor sharp glaive sunk deep into Molly’s chest. Lorenzo’s back was to her, and she had a perfect angle on her friend’s expression of agony. His eyes found hers briefly, and when his lips twitched in that puckish smile, she knew._

_“An example it is,” Lorenzo growled, his eyes focused on Keg standing just a few feet away. The dwarven woman pleaded for mercy, but it fell on deaf ears. As he looked back down at Mollymauk, his face was immediately splattered with a glob of blood as the tiefling used the last of his strength in an act of defiance._

_Lorezo nodded once, solemnly and slow. “Respect.” The glaive twisted in his hands, and Molly’s chest split open from the brutal force of the blade lodged within. Beau watched the light leave his eyes, and a cold fury lanced through her._

Something warm settled on her lap, and she opened her eyes suddenly, surprised to see Caleb crouching in front of her. A coarse wool blanket was draped over her legs, and Caleb’s retreating hands made it clear how it had gotten there. 

“Thanks,” she whispered, her voice still rough from the emotion she’d been desperately shoving back down. 

“ _Ja_ , of course. It was a bit chilly out there.” He shuffled back into the opposite seat as the carriage started moving again, jostling them slightly. Out of the corner of her eye, Beau watched as the multicolored coat of Mollymauk Tealeaf fluttered in the wind. She hadn’t known him that long, but as they trundled away from the makeshift grave of their friend, Beau knew she would never forget him. 

_Leave everything better than you found it_. Molly’s personal motto echoed in her ears, and as her eyes fell on her companion she thought that it might apply to people as well as places. They were all certainly better people for having known him.

“Hey, Caleb?”

“Hmm?” He was staring out the window a bit too intently for it to be anything but purposeful, as if he was still trying to give her space even though he was physically close. That simple consideration was enough to drive the last of the doubt from her mind. She wordlessly peeled back the edge of the blanket from the seat next to her, careful not to look at him too intently. 

It took him a moment to realize her intention, then another several long, tense seconds before he made a decision. He shifted to his feet and shuffled over a bit stiffly, careful to keep a few inches between them as he sat down next to her. She flipped the edge of the blanket over his legs and turned back to her window, steadfastly ignoring him as he fussed with it a bit to tuck the material around his body snugly. 

The rest of the day’s travel passed in a comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _Sag es bitte auf Zemni_ (Say it in Zemnian, please.)
> 
>  _Wie geht es dir?_ (How are you?)
> 
>  _Gut, danke_ (Good, thanks.)
> 
>  _drecksau_ (bastard)


	6. 2x32 - Beyond the Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between the chaotic moments that seemed to define their lives now, Beau and Caleb find a quiet one to reflect.

Beau yelped as she pulled her finger away from her owl’s mouth just in time. “Dammit!” She’d been unsuccessfully trying to feed him for the past half hour with strips of meat from Nott’s pack with no luck. “Come on, you stupid bird. You gotta be hungry. _I’m_ hungry.”

Fjord sat down heavily next to her, startling her new pet and ruffling his feathers. “You gotta try to be nicer. He’s just responding to your energy.”

“I’m a monk,” Beau snapped. “I have amazing energy.”

“You’re gonna lose a finger.”

“Do you wanna try?” Beau handed him the strip of the meat and stood up abruptly. The owl fluttered angrily from where it stood perched on a fallen log that Beau had been using as a seat. 

“Sure,” Fjord accepted her challenge, then issued one of his own. “Can you go check on Caleb? He’s being weird again.”

Beau remembered the searing blast of heat that had combusted the giant they’d encountered yesterday. It had been the biggest explosion of flame that she’d ever seen him create, and it had come as no surprise to Beau to see his eyes slide out of focus, his hands still extended from his last casting. She’d scooped him up immediately, the instinct to get him away from potential danger a sudden and foreign feeling. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Beau left Fjord to handle her owl’s dinner and set off on her quest.

She found Caleb sitting by himself near a stream, his eyes closed and expression slack. He didn’t seem to notice her arrival, so Beau purposefully slid her feet over the dry ground to make a bit of noise on her approach. His eyes popped open and cast about wildly for a moment before falling on her familiar face. He relaxed visibly, and Beau felt a twinge of something strangely warm pulse through her.

“ _Wie geht’s_?” she asked him quietly.

He smiled softly. “ _Viel besser_. I’m better. _Und dir_?”

“ _Gut, danke_.” She knew her pronunciation was still terrible, but he didn’t seem to mind. Pleasantries out of the way, she was at a loss for anything to say. Eventually, she settled on, “Fjord is feeding my owl.”

Caleb frowned. “Is...is that like a euphemism for something? Or…?”

“What? No!” Beau recoiled. “Why would you think—”

“I don’t know,” he rambled on over her protests. “I just thought that maybe—”

“It’s just a really weird thing to say in the first place. And you were there when I _bought_ the owl.”

“Right, _ja_ , you’re right.” Caleb stammered for another moment and fell silent. Then, “Anyway. I’m good. No need to worry.”

“Cool.”

They fell into a weird silence, and Beau was torn between running from the awkwardness of the entire situation and the odd fuzzy feeling in her gut that told her to stay, to really make sure he was okay. Birds chirped in the trees overhead, a melodic background to the serenity of the scene. Wind rustled the trees, its pleasant warmth a stark contrast to the biting cold winds in the north.

“I’d like to be alone,” Caleb whispered, his eyes cast out onto the gurgling stream a few feet away. It wasn’t deep where they were, but it was fast moving and loud over the smooth stones of the riverbed.

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”

Caleb hunched slightly, his hands moving to cup his elbows as he crossed his arms. When Beau did that, it looked intimidating (at least she thought so), but nothing about the scrawny wizard sitting next to her was daunting. It actually made him look smaller, which only reinforced Beau’s belief that she should stay. She folded her legs beneath her, lowering herself down to the grass just out of his arm’s reach and a bit behind; too far to be imposing but close enough for him to know she was still there. They didn’t say anything for a long while and, after a few moments of listening to the sounds of nature around them, Beau’s mind began drifting into a relaxed state. She had never meditated before (mostly because it was what the monks _wanted_ her to do, so she refused on principle), but she guessed it felt something like this peace that was slowly suffusing through her.

“Beauregard?” 

Her eyes snapped open, and she blinked a bit in the dim twilight. “Yeah?”

She didn’t have Caleb’s perfect internal clock, but from the fading light she knew some time had passed since her arrival at the stream. He looked better than he had before, less haunted and face flushed with a bit more color. His blue eyes were focused and soft, lacking that frantic edge that they’d had just after the last fight. But most importantly, he looked grateful, and Beau congratulated herself on guessing correctly; staying with him had been the right thing to do.

“We should get back to camp before the others start worrying,” he said.

Beau thought about Fjord’s request, then the not-so-subtle way Nott’s eyes had followed her earlier on her search for Caleb. 

“I think it’s a bit late for that, but yeah, let’s go.” She stood up and waited for him to do the same, falling into step beside him as they made their way back to the camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _Wie geht's?_ (How are you?)
> 
>  _Viel besser_ (Much better.)


	7. 2x33 - The Ruby and The Sapphire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their first night in Nicodranus, Beau and Caleb talk about family and get some well-deserved rest.

Beau paced around the very ornate room in the Lavish Chateau, careful not to tread too lightly on the extremely plush carpet. Sleep eluded her, and she was abuzz with an energy that was different from her normal restlessness. Another circuit took her from the expensive tapestry hanging on the wall to the small table next to the window that held a crystal vase full of lush flowers. All the luxury was making her itch, the comfortable furnishings far too reminiscent of her own childhood home to really allow her to relax. 

She glanced at the double doors that led to the balcony and wondered if she’d be able to hear the ocean over the bustle of the city. _Only one way to find out_. The door opened easily when she tugged on the ornate handle, but Beau could hear nothing except the usual sounds of city nightlife. Frowning, she crossed to the railing and folded her arms to support her weight as she glanced around for something to distract her from thoughts she’d rather not be having.

Three balconies over, a movement in the shadow of the building caught her eye. Beau did the quick math and realized that particular balcony belonged to Caleb. Fearing that someone was sneaking into his room for nefarious purposes, Beau jumped silently from her railing to the next balcony over. Light spilled around the edges of the curtain, and she thought about alerting Fjord to the potential threat. The shadow shifted again, leaning in toward the door slowly as though attempting to remain silent. Opting for expediency rather than better numbers, she leaped to the next balcony that she knew was Caduceus’ and crouched down to get a better look at the dark figure.

Now that she was closer, she could see it was the silhouette of a man, but he didn’t seem to be trying to gain entry into Caleb’s room. Instead, it slid down the outer wall to sit facing outward toward the sea. The wind shifted, bringing a familiar heavy sigh to Beau’s ears, and the tension drained from her.

“Caleb?” She kept her voice low to keep from waking the firbolg that was likely sleeping just beyond the closed doors next to her. 

The shadowed figure of Caleb jerked slightly, his head turning toward the sound of her voice. “Beauregard?”

“Yeah, hang on.” Beau stood from her crouch and jumped over deftly, landing quietly just a few feet from her friend. “I saw movement over here, I thought…” She bit off the rest of her sentence quickly; it was a bit too close to sentiment for her comfort. “Why are you still up?”

“Just thinking,” Caleb told her, gesturing with one hand to the space next to him. Beau took the silent invitation and lowered herself to the paved surface smoothly. “And you?”

“Same.” 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence that Beau wouldn’t have thought possible three months ago. They’d come so far in such a short time, been through so much together, it was almost hard to believe. Something that felt suspiciously like contentment settled around her shoulders like a well-worn cloak, and she let her eyes close as she rested her head against the building at her back.

“Jester’s mom is nice.” Caleb’s voice was soft and careful, though Beau’s intuition told her it wasn’t for her benefit.

“Yeah, she is.” She would call it an odd topic of conversation, but she’d learned over the last few months that Caleb’s mind worked differently than anyone she’d ever met. His trains of thought and leaps of logic seemed almost sporadic, though she knew there was some sense to it that she couldn’t quite discern. 

“I never did ask,” he continued. “You said your father sent you away to the monastery, but that was obviously some time ago. Is he—are your parents still alive?” 

Beau stiffened immediately. _He doesn’t know. There’s no way he could know. Don’t explode_. She clenched her jaw tight and inhaled slowly. “Yeah,” she grunted after a few long seconds. “Yeah, they are.”

Caleb either didn’t notice her discomfort or decided not to comment on it. “That’s good. Family is good.”

Much like it always did whenever they worked together, it took Beau a moment to sync with him. She finally put the pieces together as his gentle, detached tone reminded her far too much of that awful night in Zadash when he’d shared his story with her and Nott. Guilt slammed into her and she glanced over at him.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t think…” In the low light reflecting from the two moons overhead, she saw him wince.

“I’m…”

“If you say you’re fine, I’m going to punch you.” She waited for the span of a few heartbeats, then, “Sorry.”

“ _Ja_ , it’s fi—.” He pinched off the last word quickly, flinching slightly away from her. Beau held still, waiting him out. She’d learned that his penchant for analyzing every possible outcome meant that it took awhile for him to process. Her patience paid off after almost ten minutes of mutual silence.

“I’m glad you are out here with me,” he said slowly, as though it pained him to push the words past his lips. Beau squirmed, equally uncomfortable at the sentiment. “The others...they would not understand. Between Jester’s happy reunion with her mother and Fjord’s excitement at being back in his homeland, I am feeling...I’m not sure there’s a word for it in Common. In Zemnian, we would say ‘ _sehnsuct_.’ It’s sort of like homesickness, but it’s more like...a painful yearning for something lost.”

Beau smiled sadly. “Do you wanna...talk...about...anything?” She hated that she was so bad at this, but against the instinct of all of her carefully cultivated antipathy she couldn’t leave him alone when he looked so lost. 

“ _Nein, danke_.” Caleb sighed again. “Will you just...sit with me awhile?”

“Of course.” 

That pleasant warmth returned, and Beau relaxed back against the cool stone wall. The sounds of the city drifted up from the streets below, and if she focused just a bit she could finally hear the soft shush of the ocean that fell into sync with Caleb’s breathing. Her eyes closed again, fully content to fall asleep in the warm, salt-tinged air. 

She jolted awake as a warm hand fell to her shoulder. She blinked groggily and stared up at Caleb kneeling next to her. 

“It’s several hours before sunrise,” he whispered. “Come, get some rest. You can have the bed.” She mumbled something through the thick haze of sleep that came out completely garbled, but thankfully he understood. “I’m good. Going to do some reading. You can go back to your room if you want, I just thought…”

And then Beau finally realized what that strange feeling was earlier, that buzzing just beneath her skin that wouldn’t go away. She hadn’t slept alone in a long while; she’d gotten so used to rooming with Jester and being surrounded by the Nein everyday that spending a night in a room by herself had sent her into a fit of nervousness. It was a bit unnerving that Caleb had noticed at all, but she was too tired to bother with feeling embarrassed about it.

“Yeah, okay.” She climbed to her feet slowly and followed him into the well-furnished room, not even bothering to remove her shoes as she collapsed face down into the pile of soft pillows. Nott was curled up on the settee against the far wall, her tiny goblin snores almost inaudible in the large space. Caleb pulled one of the books from within his coat and set it on the small table that was an identical match to the one in her room, then turned his back to her briefly as he rifled through his pack. Beau watched through half-closed eyes as he walked over with an unfolded blanket and draped it over her gently.

“ _Gute Nacht_ , Beauregard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _Nein, danke_ (No, thank you.)
> 
>  _Gute nacht_ (Good night)


	8. 2x36 - Oh Captain, Who's Captain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite his initial admiration of the ocean, Caleb's first time out at sea is a rough one. Luckily his friends are there to help.

Caleb sucked in a deep breath to stave off a wave of seasickness as _The Mistake_ rocked through a rough patch of sea. A squall had come through just after midday, and while it hadn’t been terrible (and apparently not whatever Yasha was looking for), it had left large, rolling waves in its wake for the remainder of the afternoon and into the evening. Caleb tried to read, but his vision swam and he had to close his eyes to keep from losing the delicious lunch Caduceus had prepared earlier. Groaning in discomfort, he closed his book and stood up from his bunk to seek out the firbolg. Perhaps their new friend had something that would calm his roiling stomach.

As soon as he gained his feet the boat lurched, and he pitched sideways into the hull, his knees buckling unexpectedly. His stomach rolled again then clenched, and he spat hot bile against the wall. After a few seconds he regained enough equilibrium to shuffle his way back to the bunk and lay down. Reaching out with his senses, he found the familiar speck of consciousness in the corner of his mind that was Frumpkin. After loaning him to Beauregard in owl form, Caleb had done his best to refrain from contacting the fey creature in an effort to do right by his gift. But there was nothing to be done for it now.

“Frumpkin,” he whispered aloud, though their mental connection was enough to get his point across without words. “Please get Beauregard to come here.” He wasn’t sure how Frumpkin was going to manage it without the ability to actually communicate with her, but he trusted his familiar to get the job done. He threw his arm over his eyes and waited, taking deep, slow breaths in an effort to calm his still churning stomach. After a few moments, he heard a soft knock and then Beauregard’s voice through the door.

“Caleb?” He grunted, and the door opened. “Frumpkin was being weird, so I thought maybe you were spying on me through him. You better not be spying on me through Frumpkin.”

“ _Nein_ ,” he groaned and removed his arm to look at her. “I need you to get Caduceus, please. I am not feeling so well.”

She stepped further into the cramped space and stopped next to his bunk. “Are you injured?” 

“No, nothing like that. It’s just my stomach. It does not agree with all of the rocking back and forth.”

“Oh.” Her clothes rustled and a tiny floof of an owl appeared on the pillow next to his head. “Stay here Frumpkin.” Caleb expected her to leave right away, so he was surprised to feel calloused fingers running lightly through the fringe of hair across his forehead. It was gone just as quickly, but for a brief moment Caleb’s breath caught in his throat at the uncharacteristic display of affection. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered.

She vanished from his sight, and Caleb reached up with a single finger to rustle the fine fluffy feathers on Frumpkin’s chest. “She is treating you well?” The owl puffed up a bit, pleased at the attention, and Caleb felt an affirmative hum along their bond. “She is good people, our Beauregard. She is not always as severe as she would like us to believe, I think. I am glad we could help her feel better about leaving her owl behind.”

Frumpkin trilled softly in answer, which Caleb took to mean he agreed and so closed his eyes again to await his friend’s return. It didn’t take much longer before the heavy footfalls of Caduceus echoed down the hallway.

“Mr. Caleb?” the deep voice resonated as the firbolg crouched through the door, his large hands cradling a mug that was steaming a bit. “Beau said you were feeling unwell?”

“It is my stomach,” he mumbled.

“Yes, I brought something to help. Can you sit up?”

Caleb moved to rise, but the boat rocked again and he groaned. Steady hands at his shoulders kept him from falling back into the pillow. 

“Easy.” It was Beauregard, and Caleb relaxed enough to let her hold a bit of his weight as Caduceus handed over the mug.

“This will calm your stomach,” he said. “Drink it all, and then rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Caleb took a tentative sip. It wasn’t as medicinal as he’d been expecting. It was a bit sweet, with a spicy warmth that suffused through his chest. Almost immediately, his stomach settled a bit and he sighed. “Thank you, Herr Clay.” 

Caduceus smiled. “Of course. Come find me if you need anything further.” He lingered for a moment, his hands moving in a smooth pattern around him. As he left the room, a faint whiff of green grass and warm spice filled the space.

“Oh,” Caleb breathed out, his hand shaking slightly as the scent of his mother’s favorite flowers washed over him. 

“Caleb?” Beauregard was still behind him, her warm hand on his shoulder now more comfort than support. 

“ _Ja_?”

“ _Geht es dir besser_?”

Caleb sipped his drink and smiled. “ _Ja, danke_.” Another sip. “Your pronunciation is getting better.”

“Why do you have to sound so surprised about it?”

Caleb just smiled, used to her rather abrasive teasing by now. “Not surprised,” he said, “just making an observation.” He finished his tea and scooted forward to lay back down. Beauregard stood, taking up the cup in one hand and Frumpkin in the other.

“I’ll let you get some rest. Just have Frumpkin bother me if you need anything else.”

It took him a moment to pull his blanket up around his shoulders, still a little lost in the familiar fragrance that surrounded him. Beauregard snuffed his candle light on her way out, pulling the door closed behind her. Caleb drifted off soon after, happy memories of home lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _Geht es dir besser?_ (Are you feeling better?)


	9. 2x43 - In Hot Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the showdown with Avantica and her crew on Darktow, Beau checks in on Caleb and finds him in a bad way.
> 
> TW: panic attack

Beau stared out at the rolling waves of the Lucidian Ocean trying to work through everything that had happened in the last couple of hours. Leaving her friends to deal with Avantica and her crew had been one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do, but it had been necessary. She’d only faltered once on her mission, when the distant _Squall-Eater_ had erupted into flames and her mind had easily guessed their source. Her worry for Caleb had only lasted a few moments, however, before the Plank King had arrived and taken all of her attention.

“Hey, Fjord?”

Their newly appointed captain was up at the helm with Orly plotting their course, but at Beau’s call he glanced up at her. She tried to keep her face impassive, but he must have seen something in her expression because he left the old tortle’s side and walked over to where she was standing next to the rail.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I sort of missed a lot of the battle,” she began flippantly. “Anything I need to know about?” She tried to sound casually interested, but Fjord had an annoying habit of seeing through Beau’s bullshit. 

“Uh, yeah, actually,” he cleared his throat. “It was getting pretty bad for us, but after I got Caleb back in the fight, he—”

“Wait, back in the fight? What happened?”

Fjord wasn’t fazed by her intensity, but there was a knowing glint in his eye. “He took some hits,” he said calmly. “One of Avantica’s crew took him out with a crossbow before he could get away. I got a potion in him as fast as I could.”

“Where were the others? Yasha and Caduceus and Nott?”

“Vera did a number on us with some sort of ice storm,” Fjord went on. “Made it damn difficult to get out of danger. I used my thunderstep to get me and Caleb off the ship. The others had to hoof it on foot and got slowed down.”

Hearing how close her friends had come to being taken out by Avantica’s crew made her blood boil. “I should have been there.”

“No,” Fjord shook his head. “You did exactly the right thing. You’re the fastest of us. Getting that book to the Plank King saved all of us.”

Beau fell silent then, thinking about her friend’s words. He was right (he usually was, much to Beau’s chagrin), but that didn’t make her feel any less guilty for leaving them behind. “I saw an explosion.” There was no mistaking the question in her statement, and Fjord nodded solemnly.

“As soon as Caleb was healed, he stood up and launched a fireball at the ship. It was…”

He didn’t need to finish; Beau knew exactly how devastating Caleb’s fire could be. Still, Beau needed to know. “How many?”

Fjord took in a slow breath, then let it out through his nose. “Five.”

 _Shit_. Beau’s hands curled into fists at her sides. _Five people_. “I need to go.”

Fjord took a step back, giving her enough room to slip by him. Just before she reached the stairs that led below decks, he called her name and she looked back in question. “Tell him thank you, from me.”

Beau found Caleb in the room he shared with Nott. The goblin was off tinkering with the cannons, which would normally be concerning if Beau hadn’t been completely focused on their resident wizard. She knocked lightly on his door and leaned in to listen for a response. There was none. She tried again a little harder, and this time she heard the rustle of clothing, but still no answer.

“Caleb?”

She waited a few more seconds, but he still didn’t say anything. Cautious of any wayward spells intended for intruders, she slowly opened the door and poked her head in. It was nearly pitch black inside, and further inspection revealed that the thick blanket that was present on every bed had been hung on the wall to block almost all of the light coming in through the small port window. 

She called for him again, glancing around the darkened space for any sign of him. She knew he was here—she’d heard him shifting around—but he wasn’t talking. Beau slipped into the room completely and shut the door behind her.

Deciding on a different tack to break through his stubborn silence, she switched to Zemnian. “ _Wo bist du_?” 

It took several long seconds before she got an answer. “ _Hier_.”

She turned toward the sound of his whisper, squinting into the near darkness. He was sitting on the floor in the small space between the bed and the wall with his knees pressed up into his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. If she could see his eyes she’d guess they would be distant and pained, his mind warring between the past and the present. There was a small thump from his direction, then another, and Beau rushed over to keep him from banging his head against the wall behind him.

“Hey, hey,” she knelt down in front of him, laying one hand on his shoulder and cupping the other behind his head to keep it from impacting the wall. “You’re okay.” Now that she was closer, she could make out the anguish that pinched his expression and deepened the lines of his brow. His blue eyes were unfocused and half-closed, and he made no indication that she was even there at all. “Shit, somebody should have stayed with you. Come on.” She tried to wrap her hands around him to haul him to his feet, but he resisted. His strength surprised her, and he wrenched his arm from her grasp.

“Leave me alone, please.”

“Nope.” Beau didn’t try to lift him up, but she did grip his arm again, grounding him and offering a bit of support. “Fjord told me about the fight. About what happened when me and Jester left. He told me to tell you thank you.”

The agony on Caleb’s face morphed into quiet anger for a brief second before sliding back into sorrow. “He’s thanking me for killing five people?”

“He’s thanking you for saving his life,” Beau countered. “Avantica and her crew would have killed all of us.” Beau sighed, remembering a very similar conversation on the deck of the newly christened _Mistake_. “What happened to ‘they attacked us first?’”

Caleb grimaced, his lips pulling back into a harmless sneer. “We stole from her, we planned a coup, and when confronted we attacked. None of that was self-defense on our part.”

“You knew what Avantica’s endgame was. It was inevitable.”

Caleb reeled as though she’d struck him physically, and Beau cursed under her breath. She knew that _he_ knew they didn’t view him as a means to their ends, as a tool to be utilized. But that’s obviously where his head was right now, and Beau was making it worse.

Caleb just shook his head then dropped it to rest against his knees. He trembled beneath her fingers, and Beau adjusted her position to sit next to him. It was a tight fit, but she didn’t mind the fact that they were pressed together shoulder to hips. Anything that would help remind him that he was here with her and not lost in the turmoil of his own mind was a good thing. 

Beau was at a loss; usually Caleb’s post-battle breakdowns lasted just a minute or two, then he was back on their mission. But they had a few days of boredom ahead of them as they limped toward their next destination, leaving Caleb with nothing to do except to get lost in the downward spiral of his thoughts. 

“I’m gonna do something now, because I think you need it, and I don’t want either of us to think about it too much, okay?” He didn’t acknowledge her but he didn’t protest either, so Beau released her hold on his wrist and snaked her arm over his shoulders. His body was as taut as a bowstring and his breath hitched quickly, but he didn’t pull away. They’d only embraced a couple of times in the past, and every time had been awkward and forced. Beau was completely out of her depth, but she was tired of seeing Caleb’s broken down and despondent expression each time he had to use fire against their enemies. He needed to know that they valued him as a team member, but more than that they loved him like family. She shoved her own discomfort way down and focused on the shivering man under her arm. He had relaxed ever so slightly, though it was clear he was still fighting the self-loathing that kept him from accepting help from anyone.

“ _Du bist sicher_ ,” she whispered against the top of his head. “ _Ich bin genau hier_.”

She spoke to him softly and slowly, like he was a small, skittish animal. She repeated her words over and over, mostly because they were the only comforting ones she’d learn in case of his nightmares, but also because she wanted him to hear her and believe her. Gradually, like water trickling through thick sand, his rigid posture began to relax. After several long minutes, Beau was finally supporting his weight almost completely. He’d turned his face into the space between her collarbone and neck, and his breath was warm against her skin as he took in quick, shuddering gasps.

Beau made a mental note to talk to the others about keeping a closer eye on Caleb. If she had to leave the battlefield for any reason, she needed to know that someone else would look out for him if anything happened. Caduceus or Jester were the most likely candidates, though Fjord would do in a pinch. In the meantime, however, she had to focus on keeping him from hyperventilating and passing out on her. 

“Deep breaths, Caleb,” she coaxed. “Come on, man. Breathe with me. In. Out. Good.” She turned toward him and placed her back against the bed, gathering him against her more fully as he slotted between her knees. She wrapped both of her arms around him, and he keened quietly into her shoulder. It was a miserable, tortured sound, one she never wanted to hear again, and she closed her eyes as his arms finally released their death grip on each other and wrapped around her.

“Gods, Caleb. You’re okay.” She held him tighter, rocking slightly as warm tears splashed against her skin. 

“ _Es tut mir leid_ ,” he whispered shakily.

“No,” she rubbed her hand up and down his back firmly. “None of that. We’re family, Caleb. You and me and Nott and Jester and Fjord and Yasha and Caduceus. You don’t have to apologize for this kind of stuff. We might not show it all the time, but we care about you. And I think you care about us.”

He took in several slow breaths before responding in a tone so quiet she almost didn’t hear him, even as close as they were. “ _Ja_.”

“Then it’s absolutely okay to lean on us when you need to. You’re not alone any more, you or Nott. We’re not the Mighty Nein without the two of you.” 

They stayed like that for several long minutes, until she felt him pull away slightly. Preserving as much of his dignity (and hers) as she could, she let him go and stood up. He accepted the hand she offered to haul him to his feet, and it didn’t take much of a push to send him sprawling into the bed.

“Get some rest, if you can,” she told him. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

“We don’t seem to have any other kind,” he quipped, and Beau smiled. He was going to be okay.

“Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth?” She thought briefly about staying to make sure he slept, but she feared she’d done enough stepping outside the bounds of their carefully crafted arrangement for the moment. “I’m gonna grab some sleep myself,” she jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. From inside her robe, Frumpkin wriggled in an effort to get closer to his master. She pulled the tiny owl from his hiding space and petted him softly. “You mind if I keep Frumpkin one more night? That way you can have him nudge me if you need anything.”

She knew he probably wanted his cat back, but she also knew he was in no shape to be casting spells right now, not even simple ones. He nodded, then rolled on his side to face away from her. Caduceus had laid some healing on them after everything had settled, but she could still see the remnants of the red, raw scrape on his face. It didn’t seem to bother him, so she let it drop. She could fight that battle tomorrow with Jester at her side; the tiefling had a way of helping people whether they wanted it or not.

“ _Danke schön_ , Beauregard.”

“Yeah, man. Of course.” She patted his shoulder once more, then left him to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _Wo bist du?_ (Where are you?)
> 
>  _Hier_ (Here)
> 
>  _Du bist sicher_ (You are safe.)
> 
>  _Ich bin genau hier_ (I'm right here.)
> 
>  _Es tut mir leid._ (I am sorry.)
> 
>  _Danke schön_ (Thank you very much.)


	10. 2x45 - The Stowaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After escaping the Happy Fun Ball, Beau can only wait helplessly for her friends to return.

Beau landed a bit shakily on the creaky floorboards of the _Ball-Eater_ , much to the surprise of their crew. 

“Fuck!” She ignored the confused exclamations from Marius and the others and reached for the golden clockwork ball sitting on the table. “Stupid thing...send me back!” She wrenched at it, slicing a finger on one of the protruding mechanisms, but it didn’t budge. She growled loudly as she slapped her palm against the surface hard enough to sting.

A green flash blinded her for a moment, then a large presence appeared at her side. 

“Cad!” She reached out to steady the firbolg. “Are the others okay? Shit! We have to go back.”

Caduceus shook his head sadly. “I don’t think we can.”

Orly stepped forward, a sour expression on his weathered, tortle face. “Where all you been hanging?”

Before they could answer him, a second flash brought Fjord to them, falchion in hand and eyes wide with terror. “That was a fucking dragon!”

Beau set the Happy Fun Ball down on the table and reached out to grab his shoulder. “The others?”

“They’re coming.” Fjord dismissed his weapon and patted out the flames still creeping up his arm. “That fire elemental is wrecking everyone’s shit.”

Beau grimaced. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

 _Flash!_ Caleb stumbled onto the deck next to her, his hand outstretched but his head turned back as if looking behind him at something. Or someone. Beau opened her mouth to ask him the same questions, but the stricken expression on his face brought her up short. He was mumbling something under his breath, and as Beau got closer she finally heard him.

“I left her. I left her.” His eyes were wild as he glanced up, locking his frantic gaze on her face. “ _Scheiße_. I _left_ her!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Beau put her hands on his shoulders and steered him away from the still-reeling crew. “It’s gonna be okay. _Du bist in ordnung_ ,” she told him, knowing there was only one person that could cause him this much distress. She laid a hand on his chest, unsurprised to feel his heart hammering against her palm. “Breathe, Caleb. Come on. Nott’s resourceful. She’ll be fine.” She kept up a litany of small comforts, interspersed with commands to breathe, and while he didn’t break eye contact with the ball on the table, his chest stopped heaving so hard.

He was still shaking in her grasp when the orb flashed again and Nott tumbled onto the deck. She was bloodied and beaten, but she was alive. Caleb pushed away from Beau and collapsed onto his knees next to the goblin. Beau was right behind him, hand on his shoulder as he gathered Nott off the floor.

“ _Es tut mir sehr leid, bitte verzeih mir. Es tut mir leid_.” He clutched at her small form and rocked forward and back, repeating his plea of forgiveness over and over into her blood-matted hair. Beau remained steady at his back, though her eyes drifted to the sphere.

“Come on, Jes,” she whispered. “Come on.”

Nothing happened for several agonizingly long seconds. Then, as if summoned, Jester appeared in the center of the room. Her face was streaked with blood and tears and she looked more terrified than Beau ever remembered seeing her, but she was alive.

“Thank the gods.” Beau kept one hand on Caleb’s shoulder and reached out to Jester with the other. The tiefling’s eyes slid past her to Nott, and a wave of emotion crashed over her face as she surged forward to grip at the goblin’s arm. Beau folded her into their pile, then glanced up at Fjord and Caduceus expectantly. 

With only a little prompting, they all collapsed into the center of the room in a tangle of limbs, relief mounting as the lingering fear of facing a dragon began to fade. The realization of how close they had all come to death crashed into Beau, and she gripped Caleb’s shoulder a bit more tightly as he continued to hold Nott. Thankfully he’d stopped pleading, and was now just sitting silently in the center of their group with a slack expression.

Twiggy flashed in seconds later, a large grin on her face, and their group hug was over. Beau kept her eyes on Caleb as they all disentangled themselves, but before she could corner him for a check-in he was gone. Instinct pushed her to follow, but something about the set of his shoulders told her she wouldn’t get through his thick layer of self-loathing tonight. She’d give him a bit to work through the mess in his head, then she’d check on him tomorrow. Right now, the crew needed their first mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short chapter, but I just had to include this one. It's one of my favorite episodes of Campaign 2, not just because it's just a good old-fashioned dungeon crawl, but for the sheer _cahones_ of Nott taking that last swipe from the dragon so Jester could get away. We all give Sam shit for being an agent of chaos but he's so, so smart and plays this game so well. And Liam's worry was palpable as they all waited to see what would happen with Nott and Jester. And then when Sam turned his screen to show the _one single hit point_ he had remaining and Laura just wrapping him in a relieved hug...just *chef's kiss*
> 
> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _Scheiße_ (Shit)
> 
>  _Du bist in Ordnung_ (You're okay)
> 
>  _Es tut mir sehr leid_ (I am so sorry)
> 
>  _Bitte verzeih mir_ (Please forgive me)


	11. 2x49 - A Game of Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Caleb reveals more about the horrors of his past, Beau deals with it the only way she knows how.

Beau slammed her fist into the makeshift practice dummy, then spun for a devastating heel kick that would have taken a real person’s head off his shoulders. It hadn’t been easy finding a human-sized target in Felderwin after dark, but she’d worked her way over to the Crownsguard training hall after asking around for a bit and flashing her Cobalt Soul colors. Sweat poured down her face as she attacked over and over again, dodging invisible blows and delivering strikes as fast as she could manage, trying to drive out the image of Caleb’s scars from her mind. 

_“He used to put crystals in. He experimented on us, on the three of us.”_

_“He was trying to strengthen us.”_

_“I don’t believe in anything now.”_

Beau lashed out again with a spinning backfist. A dull ache spread through her shoulder but she ignored it. Caleb’s haunted, hollow expression swam in her vision, and she let out a primal scream as she drove her elbow deep into the sand-filled body of the dummy. The force of the strike caused her feet to slip from under her and she went down hard on her knee. Pain lanced up her leg and she clenched her teeth in a grimace.

“Beauregard?”

Caleb’s voice came from several yards away, hesitant but worried. She reached up and used the dummy to regain her feet, refusing to look at him. “How did you get in here?” It had taken some doing for Beau to talk her way in, and she’d dropped a few vague threats to make sure no one bothered her.

“I’m not totally incompetent, you know.” She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she could tell he was trying for a teasing tone rather than expressing true indignation. She snorted in answer and pulled herself to standing with only a slight wince. “Are you alright?”

Beau tested her injured leg and found that it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. It twinged a bit but held her up, and she shifted back into a fighting stance to begin another round. “No, I’m pissed off.”

“I can see that. May I ask why?”

_Because one of my friends was abused by someone he trusted. He was tortured and experimented on and I can’t fucking punch the bastard responsible into the ground._

But Beau couldn’t say that to him. Caleb had been used and exploited by a powerful wizard, torn down and abused to the point of breaking. And he was terrified. Terrified of Ikithon, terrified that they would all be targeted because of him. _Don’t run_ , she had told him. _Don’t leave us_ , she had meant.

“I need a reason to be pissed?”

“Most people do.” He paused, and Beau landed four or five more hits in the seconds that passed. “I wanted to thank you. For today.”

Beau pulled her punch and glanced back. “What do you mean?”

“What you did for Nott, asking around about her husband.” Caleb’s arms were folded across his body, his fingers resting lightly on his forearms. She had seen him standing or sitting like that so many times in the last several months, but now she knew why. The memory of the hundreds of tiny scars dotting his skin made her anger flare, and she spun sharply to drive her heel into the center of the dummy. Her knee wrenched painfully and she collapsed to the ground with a choked off gasp.

“Beauregard!” Caleb was there in the next instant, kneeling to help straighten out her leg. “Don’t squirm.”

“I’m fine.” She instinctively tried to shove him away, but his movements were surprisingly forceful as he knocked her hands aside.

“Let me see.” His spell-clever fingers were steady as he gently slid her pants leg up past her knee, revealing the discolored and swollen joint. “ _Mist_. I don’t suppose you brought a healer’s kit with you?”

Beau clenched her teeth and let out a low hiss as he carefully prodded at her leg. “No.”

“Alright, then we should get you back to the others so Jester or Caduceus can take a look at it.” He moved to hook his arms beneath hers in an effort to support her weight as she stood, but Beau bristled and pushed him off.

“I can get up on my own.”

He backed away, though he didn’t look cowed. His face was set in a grim expression that bordered on exasperated, and Beau growled again. It took her three tries without his help, but she managed to finally get her good leg underneath her. Slowly, she shifted weight into the other foot, surprised when it seemed to hold. The moment she took a step, however, her knee buckled again and she toppled.

A strong grip banded around her shoulders as Caleb took her weight immediately. He had been waiting and watching, and the moment she fell he was there at her back. He didn’t say _I told you so_ , but she could feel it in the way he maneuvered her arm over his shoulders and in the tiny sigh that escaped him.

“Lean on me,” he told her firmly, stooping enough that she wasn’t straining with each step. Together they hobbled their way back to the inn. The others were already sleeping and the main area was devoid of any customers, so Caleb set her down at one of the tables and went upstairs for a healer’s kit. When he returned, he wore a bemused expression.

“You owe Herr Clay a good story.” He handed her a small healing potion, which she down in a single gulp. The thrum of magic swept through her body, and the swelling in her knee began to recede.

“Thanks.” She flexed the joint several times to test its mobility, then set it back on the floor satisfied. “Figured you’d be sleeping after a day like today.”

“ _Ja_ , I would have, except Frumpkin woke me up and informed me that you were gone.”

“Your cat is spying on me?”

“ _Nein_ ,” Caleb sighed. “But he is...fond of you. He heard you leave earlier and did not hear you return. I believe he was worried.”

Beau didn’t quite know what to make of that, so she ignored it. “Just getting some training in. Nothing to worry about.”

“You have never before felt the need to train in the middle of the night. Why is today different?” He asked the question like he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it.

But Beau was as stubborn as they came. “No reason.” She tried to avoid his piercing blue eyes, but they bore right through her. For a moment, she understood why Ikithon had singled him out for special training; he was quite keen and adept at finding just the right angles to uncover what he wanted. He’d learned long ago that arguing with her only caused her to dig her heels in further. 

“I never did thank you,” he said suddenly. His abrupt change of topic made Beau blink in confusion.

“What?”

“For your...hmmm...for this.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, palm open and fingers pressed firmly over the curve of muscle. It was a gesture of support, of friendship, and Beau remembered reaching out for him automatically when he’d struggled to begin his story. “It is difficult for me to speak about everything that I’ve done, but—”

“You mean what was done _to_ you.” Another flash of that white hot anger colored her words, and Caleb startled. He didn’t acknowledge her point, but the cold distance in his eyes lessened somewhat as he sat down next to her.

“But, it was easier with you there. You already knew most of it, and still know more than the others.” He rested both arms on the table and leaned forward. “You said the other day that we don’t get to choose who cares for us. I didn’t hear you because, as usual, we were talking around each other.”

Beau nudged him with her shoulder with a quiet laugh. “We’re pretty good at that.”

“I’d like us to get better.”

“Better at talking around each other?”

“No,” Caleb sighed. “I just meant…”

“Relax,” Beau rolled her eyes. “I knew what you meant. I was just teasing.”

“Right, _ja_. I knew that.” Caleb twisted in his seat, folding one leg up on the bench to face her. “I just thought you should know that I heard you. It...it reminds me of an old Zemnian saying.” He paused as the memory washed over him, then in the quietest of whispers he said, “ _Ein Freund ist jemand der dich kennt und dich trotzdem liebt._ ”

He spoke slowly enough that Beau caught most of the words, and as his meaning became clear she flushed and glanced away. “I, uh...yeah, man. It’s a good saying.”

“It is,” he agreed. “It was something my mother used to tell me when I was a boy. As you can imagine, I did not have many companions as a child; I was a bit of a bore, and most of the children in my village thought I was odd.” He paused as though expecting her to retort with something clever, but she remained quiet. “Still, she held out hope that one day I would find true friends. I am just sad that she did not get the chance to meet you all.” 

That he could talk about her at all without spiraling into one of his fits was amazing, and Beau smiled proudly. They’d come a long way from their first rather brash meeting in Trostenwald. She tried to picture Caleb as a boy, all gangly limbs and rail thin, russet red hair falling into his face as he hunched over a giant book on a cold night. 

“I bet you were a huge nerd,” she said finally, breaking the tight tension that was beginning to build.

Caleb laughed softly as he agreed, his smile only slightly pained. “ _Ja_. I was.” He slid away from her to give her enough room to stand. “You should get some rest.”

She stood up slowly, testing her previously injured limb carefully. It still ached a bit, but it held her weight. “ _Bis morgen_.” She patted his shoulder as she passed him, letting her fingers curl into the barest imitation of a squeeze. Images of a lonely little boy staring up sadly at a faceless, red-haired woman assaulted her as she left, causing her to pause at the foot of the stairs. “Hey, Caleb?”

He was staring at the wall away from her when she called, though he turned with a quick, “Hmm?”

“ _Ich hab dich lieb_.” She hurried up the stairs before he could respond, though she didn’t miss the way his jaw slacked a bit in surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy. This episode was a doozy, and I loved every minute of it. From Beau's gentle support to Caleb's rather terrible revelation, there was so much empire sibling goodness. 
> 
> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _"Mist."_ (Crap, or Damn)
> 
> “ _Ein Freund ist jemand der dich kennt und dich trotzdem liebt._ ” (A friend is someone who knows you and still loves you.)
> 
>  _"Bis morgen."_ (See you tomorrow.)
> 
>  _"Ich hab lieb dich._ " (I am fond of you/I love you.)


	12. 2x50 - The Endless Burrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a harrowing escape from the fire giants, the Nein finds a moment to breathe and assess the damage.

Their plan to get past the fire giants had gone awry from moment one, but that had never stopped them before. After a series of missteps and mad dashes, they were all standing at the tunnel entrance on the opposite side of the cavern—all but one. Caleb turned his eyes back to the chamber, the air shimmering from the searing heat as he tried to make out any movement that might alert him to Nott’s whereabouts. That last he’d seen her, she’d been just ahead of him in the far tunnel that was now being blocked by a rather angry giant as Jester deftly leaped over the river of lava between them. Or, at least what the giant thought was Jester. Her duplicate was a rather good distraction, but it wouldn’t buy much time. They needed to find Nott and get as far away from this place as they could.

The second giant nearest the bridge raised his enormous tower shield and slammed it into the stone, sending a cascade of rocks crashing and tumbling into the molten river. Caleb frantically looked for any sign of his friend, but she was invisible.

_That’s a good thing_ , he told himself. If she had been knocked out or killed, her arcane trick would have dissipated and they would be able to see her. For now, at least, he knew she was okay, but they were running out of time. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb saw Beau position herself at the mouth of the tunnel. Both Yasha and Fjord stood just behind her to defend Caduceus and Jester, but Beau’s stance was different from her usual fighting posture. Her keen eyes were focused on the chamber, her muscles coiled in anticipation, though for what Caleb couldn’t say. A faint gasp of effort drew his focus away from his friends and toward the molten river. It was hard to see through the hazy air, and the heat rolling off of the lava was stifling, but in that brief, horrifying moment Nott became visible again. 

Her body impacted the surface of the lava, its viscous nature keeping her afloat for a moment before she slowly started to sink and burn. Fear and horror rooted Caleb to his spot, but thankfully his friends were ready. A blur rushed past him, and as Caleb blinked away tears he watched Beau reach into the scalding magma and pull Nott free. Flames licked at both of them as, in almost the same motion, the monk turned and dashed back to the cave. 

Unable to think much beyond the sight of his dear friend’s skin black and blistered, Caleb turned and unleashed one of his most powerful spells at the giant now bearing down on them. The arcane energies swirled around his fingertips for a brief moment before he released it, focusing its effect and a not inconsiderable amount of his will into the spell. The giant’s body, which had been the color of slate seconds ago, was now a pale brown as it shrunk and twisted into the form of the first animal that Caleb had thought of. The octopus wriggled for a moment on the ground, confused and angry, before it began ambling toward him.

The second giant was still a problem, having realized that Jester’s duplicate was an illusion. Caleb shook off the last of his shock and turned, skittering across the obsidian stone and into the mouth of the tunnel. A warm wind ruffled his hair as Caduceus used his own magic to seal the cavern shut behind him.

“We have to go!” Fjord yelled. Caleb reached out blindly, having lost his only source of light when the tunnel closed. Strong hands found his shoulders, and he recognized Yasha’s voice as she ushered him on.

“Nott,” he gasped. “How is Nott?”

“She’s alive,” Yasha answered, “but we need to put some distance between us and those giants before we can do more.”

Caleb called forth his globs of light to help him see better, stretching the four balls out to hover over the entire group as they ran. Fjord led the way, followed by Jester and Beau. Nott was still held in the monk’s arms, her tiny legs bouncing with each step. What had once been green skin was now black and bubbling, and Caleb resisted the urge to vomit.

“Easy,” Caduceus’ steady voice at his back was enough to ground him, and he kept up the pace behind Yasha with only a little effort.

Fjord finally stopped after almost an hour of constant moving. They came into a larger space with a crack in the wall that looked like it was weeping.

“Looks like we’re near an underground river,” Fjord said. “We can stop here.”

Beau sank against the wall and gently knelt down, mindful of the barely conscious Nott still in her arms. Caleb moved toward them but Jester got there first, kneeling down as Beau stood up to give her room to work. Caleb took up a spot near Nott’s head, his fingers curled into a fist to keep from reaching out to his friend.

“How is she?” he croaked, throat dry from exertion and worry. He laid his hand over a patch of skin that didn’t look too badly burned, but Nott flinched and recoiled in pain. “Sorry. _Scheiße_. I am not helping.”

“It’s okay, she’s okay. I can fix it,” Jester proclaimed. “Luckily Caduceus was ready with that healing spell or she might not have made it this far.” She muttered a few words and passed her hands over Nott’s prone form. Terrible burns and blackened skin began to fade, leaving shiny green skin in their wake. Jester managed to take care of the worst of it, but the spell sapped her strength and she sagged against the stone floor wearily.

“ _Danke_ ,” Caleb reached out his hand and laid it on Jester’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Jester just beamed, their ever present ray of sunshine even down here in these dark depths. “Of course! I might have some pastries left in my bag. Do you want one?”

“No,” Caleb shook his head. “I’ll sit with her. You go rest.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind!” There was no end to her statement, but there didn’t have to be. Caleb knew his friends well enough now to fill in the blanks. It was odd, he thought, to be so close to anyone who wasn’t Nott. His little friend had fallen asleep under Jester’s ministrations, and Caleb resisted the urge to wake her, to reach out and make sure she really was okay. He turned his attention instead to the rest of his friends. Fjord and Yasha were huddled together, plotting their next move and collecting some of the water into their flasks as Jester tried to get them to eat old pastries from her bag. Caduceus was sitting in the center of their little group, eyes closed and lips moving in silent prayer. Caleb had seen it enough times to know what to expect, and moments later a warm breeze wafted over them all, bolstering them and healing their more superficial hurts. A sigh of relief floated across the space to Caleb’s ears. 

“Thanks.” It was Beau, and when Caleb finally found her she was slumped against the far wall maybe fifteen feet away from him. She was flexing her fingers stiffly, angling her arms back and forth as if inspecting them. It was then he remembered that not only had she run for nearly an hour carrying extra weight, she’d likely been burned reaching into the lava to retrieve Nott. He recalled her coiled stance, like a panther ready to pounce from the mouth of the tunnel. She hadn’t been preparing to attack, as he’d originally thought. She’d been preparing to go get Nott, to put herself in harm’s way to save their small companion.

Caleb left Nott’s side for a moment, content with the knowledge that she was safe and alive. He stepped across the slippery stones to where Beau was sitting and crouched down.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “I…” He and Beau had not always been the best communicators, especially when talking to each other, but in this moment he met her gaze and knew she understood everything he could not say. “ _Danke schön_.”

“ _Gern geschehen_ ,” she returned with a tired grin. 

“Are you badly burned?” He glanced down at her arms but didn’t see anything too bad. Instinctively, he took her hands in his and turned them over to inspect her palms. The skin there was red, like a really bad sunburn, but not anywhere near as bad as he guessed they had been.

“I’m good now,” she told him, unbothered by his impromptu examination. “Caduceus’ mojo got most of it. I’ll be sore for a few hours until we can get some real rest.” A beat of silence passed before she continued. “Hey, you got any extra wraps? Seems mine evaporated in the lava.” Her wraps had indeed burned away, but her magic bracers looked okay. When he mentioned them, she tugged on the straps to show him. “Bracers are good, yeah. They’re just a little janky on my wrists now, though. Wraps were padding them out.”

Caleb dug into his bag and produced two small rolls. “I have enough for three sets of arms,” he told her. 

With a wry smile, she plucked them from his hands. “They’re clean?”

“ _Ja_!”

Jester appeared at his side, fingers dusted with old pastry crumbs. “You should smell them first,” she teased.

Caleb stood up with a long-suffering sigh. “How long have we known each other for?” he asked her.

“A while,” Jester smiled, drawing out her answer playfully. 

“Do I still smell?” He knew she was teasing, and he didn’t really take offense, but it was good to get back to some sort of normal after the chaos of the last few hours. 

“No, no, no, but, you know, things that are on your hands for a while,” she rambled, “if they’re real tight and stuff, they can smell.”

“Those were in my bag,” he explained slowly, ignoring the rather exaggerated sniff Beau took for Jester’s benefit. 

“Oh, well that’s good then!” Before he could move, Jester reached out and grabbed his hands. She raised them to her face to smell his fingers, and Caleb didn’t know how to react.

“What—?”

“Kind of like a campfire,” she commented, releasing grip on him just as quickly. “I like it.” She turned and bounded away, rejoining Fjord and Yasha as they prepared to get moving again. Caleb stared down at his hands, then at Beau bewildered.

“What just happened?”

She glanced up from wrapping her left arm and snickered. “Dude, I don’t know. It’s Jester. Just roll with it.”

“Roll with it,” he repeated. “ _Ja_ , I will do that. Do you need help?”

“Nah, man, I got it. Go get Nott up. We’re probably gonna get moving soon.” He left her to finish wrapping her arms and moved back to Nott’s side. Caduceus was rousing her from her small nap, and as she sat up Caleb reached out to hug her gently.

“I’m okay,” she told him. “Just a little singed.”

“Let’s move,” Fjord called from somewhere ahead of them. “I want to get a bit farther before we set up camp.”

Slowly the Nein got to their feet, sore and tired and a bit worse for wear as they trudged on toward the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _Scheiße_ (Shit)
> 
> _Danke schön_ (Thank you very much)
> 
> _gern geschehen_ (You're welcome/My pleasure)


	13. 2x56 - The Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’d been in some pretty bad fights over the last few months, but nothing had prepared them for facing off against their own.

Beau laid awake in the darkness listening to the ambient sounds of the cavern around her. It was pitch black here beneath the well, though her goggles allowed her to make out the shapes of her friends lying around her, bloodied and bruised but still alive. Her eyes drifted over to Caduceus snoring softly at one end of the hut, his expression slack in his slumber and unworried. They’d lost him—really and truly—but thankfully Jester had come prepared. It was the first death in the group since Molly, but they’d grown since then, learned that no matter what they managed to survive they weren’t invincible, so they needed to be ready. It was humbling.

“Beau?”

Nott’s voice in her ear was raspy and weak for whispering, and Beau rolled over in her blankets. It was the most she could muster as every muscle in her body screamed in pain and exhaustion. “Hmm?” 

“Do you think Caleb is okay?” 

Beau peered at Nott’s face pinched in worry and wondered why she didn’t ask Caleb himself. A tired mumble fell past her lips as she voiced the question aloud.

“Well,” the goblin’s face was so close to Beau’s, and just beyond her Fjord slept on, blissfully unaware of their late night conversation. It was a space normally occupied by Caleb, but he’d crashed on the other side of the hut earlier, as far from the rest of the group that he could manage. Frumpkin was curled up in the curve of his stomach, his purr audible even from a distance. “He was short with me earlier, and I just thought…”

“Hey, no,” Beau groaned as she pushed herself to a sitting position, angling to keep their voices from carrying to the others. “He’s...today was a shitty day, that’s all. He’ll be alright tomorrow.” Beau didn’t totally believe it, but her friend didn’t need to know that.

Nott processed her words for a moment, then sat up to mirror Beau’s posture. Her tiny green fingers played over each other as if tinkering with an invisible wire. “I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“What do you mean? I’d need, like, four extra hands to count the number of times he’s been broody after a fight.”

“No,” Nott shook her head, “I mean...I’ve never seen him as the enemy before. It was scary.”

_Beau just reacted as the blast of searing heat slammed into her. Thankfully there was enough of the cavern wall between her and the giant ball of fire that she was only a bit singed, but the shock of its source nearly floored her. Caleb stood with his hands outstretched toward them, his fingers sparking with the final remnants of arcane energy he’d just expended. Beau raced to his side, eyes sharp for any more incoming spells._

_“Is this the day? Is this the day we all feared? Do I have to kill you now?”_

Beau hadn’t meant to phrase it like that, to insinuate that Caleb would one day betray them. She hoped that hadn’t penetrated whatever haze had kept him in the demon’s thrall, but there was no telling. Seeing Caleb’s disturbingly serene expression as he tried to kill them had been terrifying, and Beau hadn’t thought much beyond shutting him down before he did any real damage, for their sake and for his.

“He wasn’t the enemy, he was charmed by that...thing,” Beau reasoned. “But we snapped him out of it.”

“But do you think he’s okay?” Nott repeated her earlier question more earnestly, her fingers clenched tightly in her lap.

“Not right now, no,” Beau answered honestly. “His mind is probably torturing him with what might have happened. But he will be okay. Eventually.”

“Will you talk to him?”

The request surprised her, and she hemmed for a moment before answering. “Let’s see how he is in the morning. If he’s still being moody, I’ll talk to him.”

That answer seemed to appease her, and Nott shuffled a bit before laying back down. Beau let her eyes wander across the hut to where Caleb was curled up in his bedroll, so carefully not touching anyone else that it had to be intentional. Despite her promise to wait until morning, she couldn’t help but search his face for any sign of distress. Her goggles didn’t give her perfect vision in the dark, but he was close enough that she could make out his slack expression. Apparently the day had taken enough of a physical toll that his mind was letting him be for the moment, but that could change easily. He’d once lamented the curse of a perfect memory; while it did come in handy for some things, his ability to remember almost everything in startling detail was sometimes not conducive to pleasant dreams.

_I’ll check with him in the morning_ , she reminded herself. She would do their little family no good if she was exhausted, and they would need all of their wits if they were going to get the bottom of whatever these disks were. Beau took a few deep breaths, forcing her thoughts to quiet as she laid down and drifted off into a fitful slumber.

**************

Caleb woke shivering for the first time in a while. Memories of a dark jail cell assaulted him, and for a moment his heart slammed painfully in his chest as panic set in. Then the sounds of his companions’ breathing reached his ears, along with the steady, comforting purr of Frumpkin, and he remembered where he was.

The hut’s duration had run out nearly two hours ago by his estimation, leaving them all exposed to the cold damp of the caverns beneath the well. Unsure if anyone else was awake, he used his blankets to block out most of the light from his globules as he summoned all four of them. Blinking against the sudden brightness, Caleb turned his eyes to his surroundings.

Caduceus was sitting cross-legged against the far wall, his eyes closed and breathing deep. Caleb wondered if he felt the Wildmother’s presence all the way down here, or if he was feeling lost. Jester and Yasha lay in a heap where the center of the hut had been, small smiles playing at their lips as they dreamed of something pleasant. Fjord was still sleeping as well, and curled up in the space near his hip was the small form of Nott. Guilt swarmed Caleb’s mind and he scrambled to his feet to escape it, but it followed him like a shadow.

“Whoa, whoa! Caleb! Shit.” It was Beau, her harsh whisper grating against his ears as he put space between himself and the group. She’d been sitting behind him, either meditating in the dark or staring at him while he slept (he wasn’t sure which was more disturbing), and as he rushed to outrun the shame that threatened to swallow him she was right there at his back.

“Easy. Just breathe. You’re alright.” She kept a few feet of distance between them as he leaned his head against the cool surface of the cavern wall. In his haste to get away, he’d run toward the narrow tunnel entrance they had all come through to get here. He realized his mistake too late. Angry black scorch marks, barely visible in the faint glow of his dancing lights, marred the gray stone and made his stomach turn. His hand curled around the rough edges of rock around him, the pain a welcome distraction from his own traitorous thoughts.

_“Light them up, pretty.”_

_He could see it so clearly now, how wrong he’d been about them. They weren’t his friends. They were only using him, exploiting his talents to further their own goals. But their use for him had run out, and they were finally here to kill him. The components for the spell were always within easy reach, and his hands clapped together sharply as the energy surged from his fingertips outward in a tiny orange bead before—_

_BOOM!_

_The explosion rocked the cavern, momentarily lighting up the faces of his former friends. Most of them were caught in its radius, some even badly burned, but Caleb didn’t care. The shrill voice of Nott reached his ears as she, too, turned on him. His willpower held firm against her pitiful spell, but before he could retaliate she was gone. He was once again alone._

“...hear me? Just breathe, man. Come on.”

Beau's strong fingers were clamped down around his, prying them away from the rocky wall where he was scratching his fingers raw. He took one shaky breath, then another, his lungs burning from the lack of air. His heart thumped in his chest, angry at being deprived for so long, and it took a moment for it to settle.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, head still bent low. 

“ _Es war nicht deine Schuld._ ”

At that, Caleb lifted his head and stared at her curiously. “Was that in your beginner’s book?” he rasped.

“I actually checked out a more advanced book that last time we were at the Archive.”

“'Checked out,'” Caleb chuckled humorlessly. “You stole it.”

“I’ll return it eventually,” Beau replied. “My point stands, though. That wasn’t your fault.”

“I almost killed Jester.”

“The _demon_ almost killed Jester by using you. Not the same thing.”

Despite his confusion, Caleb clearly remembered Jester’s terrified face as his spell rocketed toward her. Last night she’d dressed her burns carefully, obviously hoping to keep them hidden from him, but he’d seen. A familiar twinge of self-loathing hit him, and he winced.

“Could you have done it?” he asked suddenly, catching her off guard. 

“Done what?”

“Killed me to stop me from hurting all of you?” She had been the first to approach him after the fireball, and the only one to try to get through to him with words. He didn’t blame the others; they had no other way of defending themselves against his spells. 

“I would have tried stunning you first. Or knocking you out.” She drew her words out slowly, as though they pained her to say.

“I am not mad at you,” he told her, hoping to alleviate the guilt in her eyes. “I have no doubt you would have done everything in your power to save our friends, even from me. But if it had come down to it, if the choice was me or them, me or you...could you do it?”

“I…” she faltered, looking for the first time in a long time like the youthful twenty-something she was. Hesitation colored her features as she stammered her way around an answer. “I...don’t know.”

Caleb slowly folded his arms across his chest and leaned away. “Have you ever been charmed, Beauregard?”

She shook her head and glanced away for a moment. “No.”

“It was...frightening,” he spoke quietly, careful to keep their conversation from carrying to their friends’ ears. “It was as though someone had slipped a pair of goggles over my eyes, but instead of allowing me to see more clearly—as yours do—it muddied my perception of all of you. I truly thought that you all had come to kill me.”

“Sounds scary.”

Caleb hummed in agreement. “I hope you never experience it.”

“The monks at the Cobalt Soul, they actually taught me how to shrug off that kind of thing.”

He hesitated a moment, pondering her words. Just the idea of not being in control of his own mind terrified him, but if he could learn how to escape that kind of enchantment he would feel much better. “Could you teach me?”

Beau coughed loudly, spluttering for a moment before patting her own chest to clear her airway. “I, uh...I don’t know. It’s kind of part of the whole monk...thing.” As Caleb’s face fell in disappointment, she rushed on, “But we can try, okay?”

“ _Danke_.”

“ _Bitte_.” Beau shuffled a few steps away and turned back toward the group, who were just beginning to stir. “Let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for tritonreverse and Costello_Music who requested this episode. If there are any moments you'd like to see, drop a comment!
> 
> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _“Es war nicht deine Schuld.”_ (It wasn't your fault.)


	14. 2x64 - A Dangerous Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their battle at the Overcrow Apothecary, the Mighty Nein makes a quick departure from Rosohna.

Caleb wasn’t sure how they had gone from confronting a potential Empire spy to galloping across the wastelands in less than half a day, but he’d long since learned not to question it. Jannik loped along easily, eating up the distance as they raced northward, and behind him both Beau and Nott held on tightly. The landscape around them was alien and ominous, though Caleb couldn’t deny how good it was to feel the sunlight on his skin again. Living under the perpetual night of Rosohna was beginning to play havoc on his (admittedly) already precarious mental state. He took a moment to turn his face toward the setting sun, admiring the way it painted the sky. The orange hue was unlike that of a fire’s glow; where the latter usually heralded destruction and death, this was more like a promise—a memorable farewell as the sun continued its path downward through the heavens until it peered over the horizon again the next morning.

“ _Geht es dir gut_?” Beau nudged him gently as Jannik began to drift off the path, but a quiet word from Caleb righted him again.

“ _Ja_ , just lost in thought.”

“Well, don’t do that. Jannik only listens to you and I don’t really wanna get lost in the Barbed Fields.” There was a strange tightness in her voice that Caleb didn’t like, but on the back of a moorbounder he couldn’t exactly turn to look at her to check. 

As they rode further north, Yasha began speaking about the history of the area and the low likelihood of encountering other people out here. It was the most Caleb had ever heard her speak at one time, and looking around at his friends he realized they were all equally entranced by their normally reserved friend expounding on the intricacies of the Barbed Fields.

“You think we’ll be okay in here?” Jester called out from atop Yarnball.

“Yeah,” Fjord answered loud enough for the others to hear. “Don’t do anything to attract attention, we’ll keep a low profile. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

Caleb felt more than heard Beau snort in response. “Have you seen our posse?” she retorted. “Look at us.”

“We’re not very low profile,” Yasha agreed.

Caduceus laughed. “Practically the opposite.”

“Yeah, but nothing’s here to see us,” Nott put in brightly, her small voice barely carrying across the distance.

“Currently,” Beau answered cautiously.

“Yeah…”

Caleb half-turned, though Nott was almost completely obscured by Beau’s body behind him. Beau was curled forward slightly, her face unusually devoid of emotion or expression as she gripped tightly at the saddle with one hand and hugged her body with the other. He frowned and thought to ask her about it, but his original thought was too loud in his mind to ignore.

“Yes, well, we do not have to worry about diplomacy,” he said firmly, “just survival.” 

The conversation turned quickly to Nott’s supposed sobriety, and Caleb’s concern was lost amid the camaraderie and banter that he had come to love from the Nein. Caduceus had brought Clarabelle up alongside Jannik so Yasha and Beau could talk to Nott, and they were soon flanked on the other side by Jester and Fjord on Yarnball. The three moorbounders loped at a nice slow pace for a while as they conversed in the dwindling twilight, but soon Fjord grew restless.

“Sun’s setting low,” he told them. “We should try to cover some more ground before camp.”

“Riding into the sunset is so romantic!” Jester urged Yarnball to pick up the pace, and her peal of laughter floated back to the rest of them as Fjord whooped in excitement. Caduceus let Clarabelle have a bit of rein as well, and she eagerly chased her packmate along the dusty road.

“Let’s go!” Nott seemed equally excited to gain a little speed, but the moment Caleb urged Jannik to a faster gallop he heard Beau stifle a gasp of pain. It was only then he remembered their earlier fight and how much of a beating she’d taken from that hobgoblin brute. She was likely in a lot of pain, and riding on the back of a moorbounder for hours wasn’t exactly conducive to any injuries.

Worried and more than a little guilt-ridden for not noticing sooner, Caleb tried to keep Jannik’s gait even as he turned his head to speak. “Hold on a minute, do you want to tell the others you want to stop?”

Beau’s face scrunched in that way that told him the answer was yes, but her stubborn pride wouldn’t allow her to admit it. “I’m fine.” She tried to smile reassuringly, but the effect was somewhat diminished as she sucked in a sharp breath and clutched at her side. It was clear to Caleb that she needed rest, but she would never admit it. He looked back toward the others, now some distance away, and made a decision.

“You know, I’m not feeling so well,” he called out to them. Immediately Yarnball and Clarabelle circled back under the commands of their riders, and Caleb brought Jannik to a stop. “I think I might need to rest here.”

Nott fussed at him, and for a moment he thought she might be playing along. But the concern on her face looked genuine, and Caleb realized she hadn’t been paying attention to his and Beau’s earlier conversation. After reassuring Jester that her falling on him was an accident and that she shouldn’t worry, he looked at the others.

“My apologies,” he told them. “Would it be okay if we stopped here?”

Jester slid down off of Yarnball and patted her snout. “Of course, Caleb, if that’s what you need.”

“We’ll rest as short a time as possible and head out as early as possible,” he promised them. “Maybe we don’t want to go through there for the first time in the middle of the night.”

Fjord dismounted as well and stretched. “Yeah, we can lock it down here and leave at first light.”

Jester nodded and looked up at Caleb. “Can you build your dome?”

“Absolutely.” Caleb waited for Nott to slide off Jannik’s back before he turned. “Stay put,” he told Beauregard, then swung one leg over to the other side. Using Jannik as a shield from the others, he reached up and offered her his hands. She was obviously in pain, and though he wasn’t the strongest among them, he was able to assist her down with only a little jarring.

“Thanks,” she hissed as her feet hit the ground. Caleb reached into his coat for his spellbook, unsurprised when Beauregard followed him to the small space where he would erect the hut. “Man, you make vulnerability look so easy.”

Caleb thought about his life before the Nein, how he would use the grime from the road to blend in and avoid attention; to appear as nothing more than a simple beggar. He’d hated feeling vulnerable then, mostly because it meant almost certain death out there on his own. But now he had his friends, and he’d been slowly learning that it was okay to lean on them, to trust them, even if he couldn’t trust himself. Being vulnerable was still quite scary, but he knew that his friends would support him and protect him even when he could not.

“It is,” he told her before nodding to a nearby rock. “ _Setz dich_. Once I have the hut up you’ll be able to rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hit a Caleb heavy portion of the campaign, apparently, since these last few and the next are all from his perspective. Not that I think anyone minds, right?
> 
> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _Geht es dir gut_ (Are you alright?)
> 
> _Setz dich._ (Sit down/Have a seat)


	15. 2x75 - Rime and Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the lair of Gelidon, the Nightmare in Ivory, Caleb can only wait as half of his family risks it all for their mission.

Caleb peered through the shimmering boundary of his hut at his friends stationed around the frozen cavern. Ever since they’d arrived, his stomach churned with a mixture of anticipation and dread. Dragons were nothing to mess with, even relatively young ones. Beauregard had estimated Gelidon to be over two centuries old, which meant it was far more powerful than any of them. Even working together, there was a very real chance this could go very badly, very quickly.

His eyes found Jester creeping toward the mouth of the tunnel where Reani’s ice spider stood patiently, attached by a rope to the shield that held the mithril ingot. The others were scattered around the cave, and though Caleb couldn’t make them all out in the dim light, the tension was palpable, stretched between them all like a wire. It thrummed sharply as Jester reached the mouth of the tunnel and, with a quick gesture, sent a booming wave of sound upward. It rumbled deeply, like gently rolling thunder, until it faded away. Though it was warm inside the hut, Caleb shivered in the chilled silence that followed. 

_Did it work?_

For several long seconds, nothing happened. The spider skittered forward a few steps, the wooden shield scraping on the stone floor behind it. Reani was getting impatient, and Caleb wondered if she wouldn’t just send the spider up to the dragon’s door.

 _Crack!_

Sheets of ice slammed into the cavern floor, and the ice spider retreated with a high pitched shriek. _Here it comes_. Caleb braced himself for the arrival of a fully grown adult dragon. The one they’d faced in the Happy Fun Ball had been relatively young, as dragons go. This one already had legends written about it—already had a name. A small part of him was excited at the idea of seeing it with his own eyes, but a larger part of him—the part concerned with self-preservation—was afraid. 

Great, hammering thuds resonated down the tunnel as more ice shards rained down onto the cavern floor. Even so far away, the ground rumbled under Caleb’s feet as the dragon grew closer. He winced at the scrape of razor-like claws as Gelidon, The Nightmare in Ivory, finally peered over the edge. A scaly white snout emerged, scarred and enormous, and Caleb’s heart stopped.

 _That’s no mere adult._

He wanted to call out to his friends, to get them back into the safety of the hut, but terror sucked the air from his lungs. The ancient white dragon looked at the ice spider curiously, blue mist curling from the corners of its mouth.

“Interesting.”

The growl was deep and guttural, but distinctly feminine. Gelidon inhaled sharply, blasting the spider and its cargo with a frigid cone of icy blue air. But Reani had chosen a hearty creature—the ice spider staggered under the assault but did not fall. 

“Did it work?” Reani whispered next to him, her voice nearly silent to keep from carrying across the cavernous space. Caleb peered into the depths of the cavern, trying to find the glimmer of blue that would tell them if their task had been accomplished. But he saw nothing. 

“ _Nein_.”

“Alright, hang on.” She leaned forward just enough to poke her head through the hut’s shell. Seconds later the spider flailed, raising one of its legs toward the gigantic beast in front of it an arachnoid imitation of a rude gesture. “That should do it,” Reani muttered as she retreated back inside.

Enraged, the dragon reared up and breathed again. Ice crystals shot up from every nearby surface, coating the entire area in a thin frost. Caleb squinted reflexively, though the harsh blast of icy wind didn’t penetrate the bubble. When he opened his eyes, the spider had been completely encased, frozen within an icy tomb. Gelidon surged forward and clamped her massive jaws around the ice block before pulling back up the tunnel. The rope trailed behind it, and Caleb realized in abject horror that the dragon’s breath had frozen, not only the spider, but the shield and mithril along with it.

Several things happened in quick succession that reminded Caleb that nothing they did ever went like they planned. 

_Why can’t anything go smoothly?_

Less than a minute later, they all stood in the center of the cavern with half a length of rope and no iceflex. Though, they supposed, they did know where it was.

“This is definitely a glass half full proposition,” Caduceus offered.

“Or we could go get another piece.” Reani was looking less brazen in the face of the enormous beast that now had the one thing they needed to complete this quest. 

“No, no, no,” Jester shook her head defiantly.

“We’re going up there,” Nott added.

Beauregard nodded. “Alright.”

Caleb wanted to protest, wanted to keep his friends as far from that terrible, ancient dragon as possible. But there would be no talking those three out of it; they were the most stubborn of them, and any arguments he could bring up would only delay the inevitable. 

In the end, it was decided the girls would go up after the iceflex, and preparations were made quickly to ensure they had their best chance at recovering it. As Reani changed form into a giant owl, Caleb called out to Beauregard. When she turned, he held up his hand.

“ _Sei vorsichtig_.” 

Beauregard nodded, sketching a salute against her brow with two fingers. “ _Wir werden_.”

The four of them disappeared up the tunnel, leaving the Fjord, Caleb and Caduceus in the dome. Now they could only wait.

And wait.

And wait.

_Boom! Boom! Boom!_

The cavern shook faintly with the explosions somewhere above them, but there was no telling which of their friends had been responsible.

“My money’s on Nott,” Fjord said when Caleb posited the question.

“Beau had the firecrackers,” Caduceus pointed out.

They bickered back and forth good-naturedly for a few seconds before Caleb slashed his hand in a quick motion. “ _Ruhe!_ ”

The cracking and splintering of ice echoed down the tunnel, and it wasn’t long before Reani in giant owl form appeared, carrying Beauregard on her back.

 _Two of four_ , Caleb counted. _Two more to go._

The roar of an enraged dragon was deafening, and Caleb clapped both hands over his ears to block out the worst of it. With a thunderous _CRACK_ , Gelidon, The Nightmare in Ivory, dropped to the bottom of the tunnel, far too close to Reani and Beauregard. With a vicious snarl, the ancient white dragon unleashed a cone of frozen air that quickly enveloped both smaller figures. 

“Beauregard!” Caleb took a step forward, his instinct to help his friend nearly overwhelming, but he took only one. His heart hammered in his chest, his fear held at bay only by the steadfast mantra that he had been repeating to himself since he raised the hut.

_Do not move! Your friends need you. You must hold your ground if they are to survive._

For a sickening moment there was only silence, then Beauregard and Reani burst from the icy mist, chilled and covered in tiny ice shards, but alive. Almost instantly the druid morphed into a giant spider, not unlike the one that had been frozen solid and stolen by the dragon. Beauregard, with her preternatural speed, dashed for the dome.

“Fuck!” She was half-frozen and shivering when she hit the barrier, but she was alive. Caleb rushed for his pack, quickly pulling his blanket from within. Her fingers were stiff and tinged blue like her lips, so Caleb draped it over her shoulders and rubbed her arms roughly to restore some circulation.

“ _Bist du in ordnung?_ ”

“ _M-m-mir g-geht’s gut_ ,” she stammered as she stamped her feet to get warm. Caleb summoned a tiny flame around his fingers for a few seconds then extinguished it and wrapped his fire-warmed hand around her neck to help drive away the chill. “W-we distracted her s-so Jester and N-nott could get the iceflex. They sh-should be back soon.”

She reached up to tug the blanket tighter around her shoulders as Reani, in giant arachnid form, reached the barrier of the dome. Luckily she had the foresight to shift back; Caleb didn’t really want to be quite that cozy with an ice spider.

The familiar _whoosh_ of Jester’s dimension door spell heralded the arrival of their last two members, and as they stepped just inside the barrier of the dome, Gelidon was upon them. She snarled and clawed at the hut, howling in rage as she tried to get to them, but it held firm. Caleb knelt down and began meticulously drawing the sigils that would teleport them all safely away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Gelidon growled, giving up her assault to stalk like a panther around the perimeter. Several of his friends tried to placate her with some gold or even sweet words, but Caleb just kept drawing. “I know your _scent_ now.”

Caleb finished the circle with a final stroke of his chalk, imbuing the sigil with enough power to activate the portal. One by one they vanished, Gelidon’s final ominous words echoing into the void after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it just me, or is the M9 like 1000% worse at crafting legitimate plans when Liam isn't there? I'm so mad that he had to miss this episode, because I _really_ wanted to see his authentic nerd boy reaction to the _ancient_ white dragon instead of the adult they were all expecting. But it did give us the absolute gift that is Swedish-adjacent Caleb as helmed by Marisha Ray, so...small mercies.
> 
> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
>  _Sei vorsichtig._ (Be careful.)
> 
>  _Wir werden._ (We will be.)
> 
>  _Ruhe!_ (Be quiet!)
> 
>  _Bist du in ordnung?_ (Are you alright?)
> 
>  _Mir geht's gut._ (I'm fine.)


	16. 2x88 - Unwanted Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their victory over Obann at the Cathedral of the Dawnfather and the tense meeting with King Dwendal, the Mighty Nein are beaten and bruised, but triumphant. At the Camarouth Cottage, Beau takes a moment to check in with Caleb.

Rexxentrum was a lot different than Beau had imagined. Her father had often told her of the splendor of the capital, though he could never be bothered to take her with him on his trips to the city. From his description, she’d pictured columns of marble lining the streets and gleaming buildings filled with people dressed in the finest clothes. The reality had been far less impressive, tainted even further by the memory of Caleb’s obvious distress upon their rather abrupt arrival. 

_Caleb’s hand was still on her shoulder as the teleportation effect whisked them away from the Archive in Zadash and flung them northward to Rexxentrum. She’d never seen the Library here before, but she’d read about it. It was vast, bigger than her home Archive, and beautiful. She wished there was more time to explore, but with the news of the current Kryn attacks and their mission to stop Obann looming, they could not linger. Glancing over at Caleb, she smiled at his slack-jawed expression._

_“You’re drooling just a little,” she teased._

_His reply, when it came, was not the indignant retort she expected. “I don’t know if I can do this.” His whisper didn’t carry to the others, but it was loud enough for her to hear his anguish. The words cracked at the end, tapering off and vanishing with the last traces of her good mood. Reaching out, she laid her hand against the curve of his shoulder and squeezed, wanting nothing more than to take him away from this place that held such horrible memories for him. But they had to be here to save Yasha and to stop whatever Obann’s plan was, so she did the only thing she could do._

_“You’ve got this. You can do this,” she told him quietly. Then, because she knew what would focus him best, she added, “We need you. We need you to do this.”_

_As predicted, her reminder that he would best serve the group by being focused snapped him from his daze. “Yeah, good. Good.” She didn’t know if he was complimenting her strategy or reassuring her of his well-being, but she didn’t care. The faster they finished their business here and left, the better._

Beau sank back into the plush chair in her room at the Camarouth Cottage as she waited for her turn in the washroom. So much had happened in the last day that she had trouble sorting it all out, so she tried to meditate. Unfortunately, the only thing her mind could focus on was Caleb’s meek and terrified expression as they were leaving the king’s court. They had known, of course, that Trent Ikithon was close to King Dwendal, but they hadn’t expected him to confront them directly. Beau had immediately moved to stand next to Caleb, ready to intervene if Trent so much as looked at him sideways. The others had done the same, building a sort of protective circle around their friend. 

_“You’ve come far from simple sellswords and pit fighters. Especially you, Bren.”_

With one word, Ikithon had thrown them all off balance. Beau hadn’t had time to react which, in hindsight, had probably been a good thing. She couldn’t imagine decking a high-ranking member of the Cerberus Assembly would win her any points with her own leadership. Still, she couldn’t wait for the day when the tides finally shifted their way and they could take that smug bastard down. 

Even by his own standards, Caleb had been understandably quiet on their way to the Shimmer Ward. Unable to focus and worried for her friend, Beau pushed up from the chair and set off down the hall to Caleb’s room to check on him. Her knock was quiet to avoid alerting the others still in their own rooms, but it carried enough that Caleb answered quickly.

“Come in.”

Beau stepped inside and closed the door. He was sitting in his chair at the window, eyes cast out at the city before him. People milled about, all earlier panic and chaos from the attacks of the day forgotten. Beau moved silently over to the wall next to him and leaned her shoulder against it. She knew he could see her in his periphery, though he made no indication that she was there. Frumpkin sat in his lap, purring loudly to comfort his master. Caleb’s hand idly stroked the cat’s fur, though the movement was rote and methodical.

_“Wie geht’s?”_

It was a tried and true conversation starter, but she wanted to assess his mood before she dove into any serious topics. Usually he would respond, sometimes in Zemnian and sometimes in Common, and they would go from there. But this time she was met with silence, and it worried her. She moved to crouch next to his chair, her hand on the armrest just shy of actually making contact with him.

“Hey, come on. Look at me.” Slowly, his gaze slid from from the window to her. She saw past the blank stare he gave her and recognized the turmoil in his eyes. He was teetering on the edge of a precipice, about to plummet to the bottom of a very deep, dark chasm. “You’re okay. We’re all okay.”

“ _Auf Zemni bitte_.” She’d heard the request before, long ago on a cold road after the worst week of their lives. Then it had been almost playful, a gentle reminder to practice the language she had just begun to learn. 

Now, though, it was a plea; a desperate cry for a familiar refuge in a storm. 

“ _Tief durchatmen_.” She pushed forward the last few inches and closed her hand over his arm to add a physical reminder to her words. “ _Dir geht es jetzt gut_.” She got her feet slowly and tugged gently on his arm, more of a request than a demand. Frumpkin added a small mewl of encouragement, and finally Caleb stood. “ _Brauchst du eine Umarmung?_ ”

She waited for his response, hyper aware of every breath he took, until his chin dropped in a nod. She let go of him and wrapped one arm around his shoulders, only momentarily surprised when he shivered and sagged against her. He was taller than she was, but scrawny enough that his sudden weight didn’t topple her. She kept up a litany of Zemnian words as she held onto him tightly, the same few phrases over and over again until his trembling stopped. 

Eventually a soft knock on his door startled them both, and Caleb jumped back. “ _Ja?_ ” he called.

“Caduceus is done in the washroom,” Jester’s voice floated through the door. Her jaunty footsteps retreated down the hall, and Caleb sighed heavily. He looked a bit better than before, though Beau guessed he wouldn’t truly be back to himself until they were well away from Rexxentrum. She was about to leave him to his washing when he sucked in a shaky breath and spoke. 

“You almost died today.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess so. Think we all did, really.” She honestly hadn’t really thought about it; she got knocked around all the time. _Better me than my friends_ , she thought. But judging by the intense concern on their faces when she’d come to, it had been a near thing. 

“I was...worried.”

“I noticed.” He had been in giant ape form after escaping the maw of the aberration, but there had been no mistaking the soft, concerned grunts that followed his playful rough-housing. It was sort of sweet the way he felt comfortable enough to do so, even if it was in a different form. “It’s not the first time I’ve been knocked out, though.”

“No, but that was unlike anything we’ve faced before. Far too many of us nearly didn’t make it out today.”

“Hey,” Beau balled her fist loosely and tapped it against his shoulder gently. “It’s gonna take more than some horribly mutated demon aberration with a hundred eyes and dozens of tentacles to get rid of me. Okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You forgot the millions of teeth.”

“Well, luckily I didn’t see those quite as closely as you did.” A cold terror had seized her when Caleb had been swallowed by the monstrosity that had once been Obann, but thankfully that thing had been unable to contain the two ton gorilla that had burst free seconds later. “That was a neat trick, changing form like that. What was it like in there?”

His slight frown of concern morphed quickly into a grimace of disgust. “ _Widerlich_.”

Beau threw her head back and laughed, happy to see an answering lightness in his eyes as well. “I guess that means you can go wash up first.”

Caleb blinked and raised his brow in a mock challenge. “Ja, I was going to go first anyway.”

Smirking in answer, she reached down and scratched Frumpkin behind the ears for a few seconds before shuffling to the door. “I think Fjord said something about dinner downstairs when it’s ready. You coming?”

“Of course.” He held out his hand to initiate what Beau was quickly growing to identify as their special handshake. She mirrored him, locking their thumbs and wrapping her fingers around the back of his hand. They stayed like that for a long moment, each of them very obviously relieved they’d survived the day, then Beau released him and stepped back. Just before leaving she offered him one last warm smile. 

“Go get cleaned up. I’ll see you at dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're rapidly nearing the end of the chapters I have written (the next one is a doozy, btw, and my favorite). If anyone has any moments that I missed that they would like to see here, just drop it in the comments. I'll see what I can do with them and insert those chapters into the correct place if need be. 
> 
> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
>  _Wie geht's?_ (How are you?)
> 
>  _Auf Zemni bitte_ (In Zemnian, please.)
> 
>  _Tief durchatmen_ (Take a deep breath.)
> 
>  _Dir geht es jetzt gut._ (You're fine now.)
> 
>  _Brauchst du eine Umarmung?_ (Do you need a hug?)
> 
>  _Widerlich_ (Disgusting.)


	17. BONUS: 2x88 - Unwanted Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following their visit to the Sanitorium, Beau checks in on Caleb and makes a promise.

Beau stood just inside the entrance to the Cryptic Collection, her keen eyes roaming over the dim interior slowly. They’d been in their fair share of creepy shops, but something about this one sent a chill down her spine. The flutter of wings and chittering of rats became an unsettling ambience as she hovered near the door. Next to her, Caleb seemed to be in a similar state of unease, and they shared a commiserating look as their friends talked to the unkempt shopkeep behind the counter.

As they waited, her mind drifted back to their rather eventful morning at the Vergessen Sanitorium. She’d hated everything about it from the moment they’d walked in, from the well kept landscaping to the overly polished fixtures. There was something so deliberately benign about the entire place that Beau couldn’t help but seek out the cracks in the facade, her trained eye looking for any weakness to exploit. Martinet Da’leth had been a gracious guide, but even his carefully crafted words held hints of a darker purpose.

_“It is a place of recovery, it is a place of care taking to individuals who cannot take care of themselves, particularly those of skill sets that make them challenging to treat, in more public regions.”_

Caleb had been deathly silent on their walk through the Sanitorium, and Beau had kept one eye on him as she tried her best to catalogue absolutely everything about the place. He walked slowly, shoulders hunched as though trying not to draw attention to himself. By the time they’d reached the waiting room he was tense and guarded, reminding Beau far too much of the way he’d been during the first few weeks of their acquaintance. 

Things had only gotten worse during their brief meeting with Ikithon. It had taken a considerable amount of willpower and most of her training to keep her expression neutral and her words civil as they discussed their upcoming mission. Surprisingly, Caleb had done a much better job speaking with his former master, even going so far as to acknowledge what he’d been through, even if it was a backhanded dig at the man himself.

“ _Was denkst du?_ ” Caleb’s voice was low enough not to carry across the room where Caduceus was bartering over some sort of bone flute.

Beau tried to collect her thoughts into something resembling coherency, but the simmering anger she’d been holding back all morning was clouding her mind. As a result, her face was set in a scowl as she glanced over at him and he recoiled slightly. Schooling her features into something a bit more pleasant, she offered him a tiny, if genuine, smile.

“ _Nichts._ ”

He just raised his eyebrows. “You haven’t scowled that hard since Baxxozan. Something is bothering you.”

“It was just...that place. It gave me the creeps. And you had to deal with it for eleven years.”

Caleb’s head tilted just so as he studied her for a moment. “I truly don’t remember a lot of it,” he admitted. “My mind was totally consumed by a fog and I didn’t really notice the passage of time. I didn’t even realize it had been eleven years until I left.”

“Still,” she crossed her arms and carefully leaned back against a sliver of wall that wasn’t adorned with some oddity or another, “I never really thought about it. How old are you?”

“Thirty-three,” he answered, then frowned deeply, “or am I twenty-two? Do the years truly count if my brain was not coherent enough to be aware of them or develop in that time?” He seemed to be asking more to put the question out into the universe rather than seeking an actual answer, but Beau just shrugged one shoulder.

“Dude, that’s a question for somebody like Demid. I’m more interested in knowing what happened during your time there. Did they even try to help you get better?”

Caleb’s frown deepened for a moment, then he sighed. “A place like that isn’t built to help people,” he told her. “It’s a place to keep their secrets, or for silencing those that would speak out against them.”

“So you think there are more people in there like you? People that are just inconvenient for them to have running around so they toss them in there to ‘help’ them?” The implication was staggering, and Beau was almost hoping that the answer would be no. She should have known better.

Caleb paused for a moment, casting a look about the room as if searching for something. Then his body angled toward her, his back to the rest of the shop as he pitched his voice even lower to a near whisper. “The Empire, and in particular the Cerberus Assembly, didn’t gain all of its power and influence by letting its detractors roam free. They have always been about control, and the Sanitorium is a good method to keep those people locked away for a long time.”

Beau’s scowl came back tenfold. “A place like that shouldn’t be allowed to exist.”

Caleb’s answering smile was thin and patronizing. “I’m sorry, but that’s naive.”

“I’m an Expositor now,” she pressed on, resentment fueling the passion in her words. “It’s my job to find places like that and take them out. I don’t care how long it takes, I’m going to dismantle it.”

He stared at her for several long, silent moments, punctuated only by the occasional screech of the tawny owl in a cage near the counter. Finally he nodded. “I would very much like to help you with that.”

Just the thought of Caleb going back to the Sanitorium for any reason at all set her back up, and she bristled. “I know you were on edge back there, and you absolutely had every right to be. Those people did some awful things to you. But they won’t touch you again. They can’t hurt you any more.”

He blinked, taken aback by the fierce sincerity of her tone. “Beauregard, that’s—”

“ _Fuck_ naive,” she cut him off before he could say it, “I don’t care. They won’t lay a hand on you.”

Caleb opened his mouth to respond, but Fjord chose that moment to pop back over and thrust his hand out toward both of them. “We’re buying some healing potions. It’s 114 gold each.” 

Beau kept her eyes on Caleb for another few seconds, trying to impress upon him that she’d meant every damn word, but his gaze had already dropped to his pockets, searching them for his coin purse to fetch the requested amount. Beau did the same, and with the moment broken she decided to follow Fjord back to the shopkeeper to see what else there was to purchase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that the stream is going again, I'm getting back into this whole "writing" thing, so here's a short one. More to come from Rumblecusp. Also, I definitely started Campaign 1 and just finished episode 83. So there's that...
> 
> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide**
> 
> _Was denskt du?_ (What are you thinking?)
> 
> _Nichts._ (Nothing.)


	18. 2x92 - Home is Where the Heart Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After leaving the Lionett Estate and getting rooms at the Gemmed Hearth, Caleb's mind cannot stop thinking about what he should have done. His restlessness translates into a late night walk and a conversation.

There were few moments in Caleb’s impressive memory when he felt true anger. Not the fearful anger he forced back whenever one of his friends was in danger, or even the deep self-loathing that consumed him whenever he caught a whiff of his mother’s favorite flowers. But real, absolute wrath. 

_“When was the last time that you saw your dad?”_

_“The night he slapped me across the face as I was getting drug out by the monks.”_

Beauregard’s answer to what he had foolishly assumed was a simple question from Yasha had made his blood run cold. He had known something was bothering her as far back as Rosahna, when she had feigned a bad skin rash to get them away from Essek’s house and back into relative safety before telling them the story of her father’s deal with a witch. But he hadn’t been prepared for that, and ever since then he had watched her retreat further and further into her shell. The woman who had confronted her parents in the sitting room of their grand estate had been a stranger; meek, defensive and unsure were never adjectives he’d ever assigned to Expositor Beauregard, badass monk. Even the memory of her voice cracking with emotion as she spoke to a man whose last actions toward her had been violence and renunciation made him seethe.

After it was all over, Beauregard led them to a terrible dive bar with horribly stained floors and rooms that reminded Caleb of those early days before the Nein had been a true family. He was on his back in the pile of hay staring at the dark, the evening on vivid replay in his mind. Nott was sleeping peacefully in the bed, and through the thin walls he could hear the comforting sounds of Caduceus’ heavy snores and Jester’s quiet conversation with her deity.

_“I thought I was doing what was best for you, truly.”_

Thoreau Lionett’s excuses rang false in Caleb’s ears, like a man trying desperately to justify his terrible decisions. There was no doubt that the Cobalt Soul had been a perfect place for Beauregard—enough of a challenge to build her skills while giving her the focus and discipline that allowed her to thrive. Caleb had no qualms about the results. It was the methods he abhorred. 

His mind would not quiet, no matter how he tried to relax. After the third time trying to get comfortable enough for his consciousness to slide away, he gave up. Ensuring Nott remained asleep and commanding Frumpkin to remain behind, he slipped out of the room and back down to the main tavern. Kerry was still behind the bar, a grimy rag in hand. At the sound Caleb’s footsteps he glanced up and smiled.

“Coming back down for a nightcap?”

But Caleb’s mind had a different destination planned, his earlier ire hardening into a singular focus. “No, thank you.” He made his way out the front door and back into the stormy night. Even the near freezing rain didn’t keep him from finding the path back to the expansive estates that sat on the outskirts of Kamordah. 

The Lionett home looked exactly like they’d left it. The arch over the front gate was barely visible in the darkness, but Caleb found his way easily enough past the iron bars with the help of a _Knock_ spell. Luck was on his side, and he didn’t encounter any guards or patrols before reaching the porch. Light still emanated from within, and Caleb steeled himself as he raised a hand to knock. It took a bit longer than before, and during the wait he pulled out his pearl and muttered a quick incantation. A brief flurry of geometric shapes swirled around him for a second before they faded away. 

Eventually the door opened revealing the same woman from before. She peered at the figure standing on the stoop with a cautious eye, obviously concerned how he had gotten to the door in the first place without alerting the guards. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, good evening. My name is Caleb Widogast, I am a friend of Beauregard’s. Is Mr. Lionett available? I don’t want to take up too much of his time, but it is imperative that I speak with him.” He could feel the tiny spark of fortune thrum within him, weaving through his words and helping them pierce whatever hesitation the woman might have had. 

Her frown softened slightly as recognition crept in and she sighed. She ushered him into the same sitting room they’d been in before, plush in its comforts but not welcoming or warm like a home should have been. This was a show, a deliberate display of wealth for visitors to see. “Wait here a moment.”

Caleb waited, unsure of exactly what he wanted to say but needing to say it nonetheless. He’d stood by Beauregard for the entire exchange earlier, though he’d been so blindsided by her completely abnormal behavior that he hadn’t managed more than a comforting squeeze on her shoulder and a pithy remark about her capabilities. Now, after several hours of thinking about what he should have said or done, Caleb’s mind and body were abuzz with energy.

Heavy footfalls heralded the patriarch of the Lionett family, and Thoreau stepped into the room in more casual dress than the work clothes they saw him in before. His expression was guarded, and though he seemed cautious he did offer his guest a warm smile.

“Good evening,” Thoreau greeted. “You were here earlier, with Beauregard.” It wasn’t a question, but Caleb nodded anyway. “How can I help you...?”

“Caleb Widogast,” he supplied, summoning every ounce of his good graces. “Forgive me for returning so late, sir, I just…” Standing face to face with the man who, with his mere memory, had morphed his brazen, cock-sure friend into a timid mouse, Caleb forced the roiling anger in his chest down enough to feign civility and smiled. “I was a bit overwhelmed earlier today; Beauregard doesn’t speak about her family much and being here with her was a little strange. I just wanted to let you know how much your daughter means to us. We have been through some terribly dangerous situations that would have ended much worse if she had not been there.” Caleb folded his hands in front of him slowly. “She has saved my life many times, saved us all many times. I said before that she is unparalleled, but please understand me when I tell you that is a gross understatement.”

Thoreau’s smile grew into a proud grin. “Thank you. I always knew she was destined for great things, our Beauregard.”

Caleb wasn’t sure if it was the pride that her father had no right to or the not quite subtle claim in the tone that finally set him off. Jaw clenched and fingers itching to summon more than just tension, he let his smile fall away to reveal a bit of the monster that Ikithon had begun to mold.

“She is not _your_ Beauregard,” he growled softly. “She is her own, and she is formidable. I have seen her stare down the face of death itself and laugh. She has stood proudly in the court of _kings_ and forged peace. She has uncovered secrets of the gods themselves and without her we— _all of us_ —would be lost.” He was gathering steam now, and his hands fell away from where they were clasped in front of him. 

“Beauregard is my friend,” he continued evenly. “ _Nein_ , she is much more dear to me than that. She showed me what it means to have a family again. Which is even more remarkable given the rather appalling example she was shown growing up.”

Thoreau’s smile grew colder as he straightened, finally realizing the reason for Caleb’s visit. “Everything we did, we did for her. To make her resilient. To make her strong.”

Caleb snarled and surged forward, reveling in delicious satisfaction as Beauregard’s father retreated one step, then two. “She was a _child_ , Thoreau. She didn’t need to be strong, she needed to be loved. To be cared for.”

The smile finally vanished completely, and as Thoreau regained his composure the facade of the caring father fell away and the cold businessman appeared. “I’m not sure who you think you are, barging into my home and casting judgement on how I raised my daughter.”

A thousand replies passed across Caleb’s mind, but only one made it to his lips. “She told us what you did.” When Thoreau didn’t respond right away, he went on. “You struck her when she was defiant, when she went against your wishes for her life, and that is not something that one does out of the blue. That kind of reaction _could_ be one of impulse, of course, but I’m guessing from the way she tried everything she could think of to avoid returning here that you’d done it before.” He fell silent as the tension stretched on for two seconds, then five. By ten, Thoreau hadn’t denied his accusation and Caleb’s simmering anger finally began to boil over. “I am going to leave your home now,” tiny licks of fire flickered around his fingertips as he let the heat seep up into his words, “and if you are very, very lucky, I will never return. I have done things that make an ominous fortune from a witch in the mountains look like a blessing. I have watched people— _good_ people—burn by my own hands and done nothing but stare at the flames.” 

And finally, _finally_ , as the fire danced across his hands, Thoreau’s hesitation slid ever so slightly into fear. 

“I...I…”

“I saw my very good friend become someone she isn’t at the mere mention of you. I didn’t like that person. I don’t ever want to see that person again. I _will not_ see that person again, if I can help it.” Caleb drew himself up to his full height, not surprised to find himself staring down into Thoreau’s fearful eyes. The flame in his hands flared for a moment, then extinguished. Without so much as a goodbye, Caleb turned on his heel and marched toward the door. Just before crossing the threshold, he paused for a moment and turned.

“Beauregard is not yours,” he repeated fiercely, his blue eyes piercing directly into Thoreau Lionett’s wide-eyed stare. “She is _ours_ , and woe be to anyone who tries to take her from us.” 

He didn’t look back as his long strides took him away from the Lionett Estate and back onto the road that led into Kamordah proper. The Gemmed Hearth was dark by the time he returned, but the front door opened easily enough when he tugged. As quiet as he could, he made his way toward the rickety stairs that led up to the three rooms on the second floor. Just as he passed the first table, a hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

“Ah!” He summoned a spark of energy that illuminated the angular features of Beauregard. Satisfied he wasn’t being accosted by a stranger, he dismissed the arcane energy and sucked in a deep breath as his heart pounded like a jackrabbit in his chest. “ _Mist_ , Beauregard. Why are you up so late? And why are you sitting in the dark?”

“Waiting for you,” she returned smartly as she released him. “Where’d you go?”

“Just, you know…” he hemmed. “Out for a walk.”

“In the rain,” she pressed him skeptically. “In the middle of the night. By yourself. In a town you’ve never been to. A town you _know_ is crawling with shady, underground elements that would love to make an easy meal of a scrawny-ass man walking alone at night.”

“Yes.” Caleb absolutely had no intention of telling her the truth of his whereabouts, not just to avoid the awkward emotional outburst it would bring but also because he didn’t want her to punch him for being presumptuous. 

“I don’t believe you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Where were you?”

“Just out. Good night, Beauregard.” He turned toward the stairs, but she sidestepped smoothly around the chair and blocked his path.

“Out doesn’t cut it. Where did you go?”

Caleb sighed. “Why does it matter?” In hindsight, he should have doubled down on his “out for a walk” lie, or even tried to annoy her into leaving him alone. His attempt at a deflection told her all she needed to know about his whereabouts. She stared hard at him for several long seconds before she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. 

“You shouldn’t have gone back.”

Caleb analyzed his options. He could continue to deny it and try to escape back to his room, or he could obfuscate and irritate her into giving up her interrogation. But she’d experienced enough upheaval today, and something in her stare told him she was only a few steps away from falling over some kind of ledge. Seeing her so off balance these last few days upset him, and his late night visit to the Lionett Estate was the culmination of that distress and the fierce protectiveness that had bloomed in his chest as their little band of misfits slowly became family.

“Perhaps not,” he conceded, “but what is done is done.” He followed her eyeline to his side, surprised to find his fingers curled inward, halfway to a full clench and aglow with tiny embers. Her gaze lifted to his, and in that odd instant way of communicating they’d developed over the course of their travels, she read all she needed to know about his encounter with her father.

Beauregard deflated slightly, her defiant stance softening into a self-comforting hug around her middle. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Caleb’s expression hardened. “I did. Of _course_ I did. That is what family does, Beauregard.” Unspent energy thrummed beneath his skin, eager to be released after an evening of being held at bay. He folded his arms over each other, fingernails digging at the scarred skin just beneath his sleeves in an effort to quiet his anxiety. 

Beau stepped closer, well within Caleb’s personal space, and laid her hand on his to still their scratching. “Hey, it’s fine.”

“It is _not_ fine,” he took one step back as the restlessness burbled up into his throat and out with his words. “I...I owe you an apology, Beauregard. For many things, really. I feel as though I understand you a bit better now, though I am sorry for the way that understanding was gained. And I am sorry for pushing you before and for using your friendship with Nott to influence you into coming here. Looking back, it was clear you did not wish to speak with your parents, and that was something I could not comprehend. I was blinded by my own…”

“ _Sehnsuct_?”

Caleb’s lips stretched into a flat smile. “ _Genau_. I could not fathom a child not wanting to see their parents again, because I would give anything to see mine just one more time. I let my own bias blind me to your pain, and I hope you can forgive me.” 

“We got what we needed,” Beauregard reasoned. “There’s nothing to forgive, Caleb.”

“Well, agree to disagree,” he retorted. “You faced a great challenge today, and I am afraid that in letting you take the lead in your parents’ home, I did not do enough to let you know you were not alone.”

“Dude, I knew I wasn’t alone.” She raised her hand and rested it on his shoulder, letting her fingers curl over the crown of it as she squeezed in an imitation of the gesture of comfort he’d given her earlier. “Did it suck? Absolutely. Do I want to do it again? Hell, no. But if I did have to do it again, I know all of you would be right there with me.”

Caleb gave her a thin smile. “ _Ja_.”

A charged silence hung for several seconds before Beau surged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “ _Danke_ ,” she whispered into his shoulder. 

Caleb closed his eyes and returned her embrace stiffly, unused to being the one sought for comfort rather than the one seeking it. “ _Bitte_ ,” he replied. “ _Wir sollten uns ausruhen_.”

“Don’t know that one,” she mumbled, squeezing him once more before stepping back. 

“Get some sleep,” he told her, patting her arm slowly. “We have a witch to find in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's probably not hard to see why this chapter was my favorite so far, and actually this scene was the one that inspired this entire fic. Just the idea of Caleb confronting Thoreau was too good of an image to pass up. Also, I got to use one of my favorite quotes that I first saw on Tumblr, though I cannot seem to find it's originator:
> 
> _"But it made you stronger."_
> 
> _I was a child. I didn't need to be stronger. I needed to be safe."_
> 
> Thank you so much for your responses to my last note. If anyone has any other moments from this campaign they'd like to request, I will definitely consider writing it.
> 
> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
>  _Sehnsuct_ (A painful yearning for something lost)
> 
>  _Genau_ (Exactly)
> 
>  _Wir sollten uns ausruhen_ (We should rest)


	19. 2x99 - High Seas, High Stakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of war and devastation, the Empire and the Dynasty are finally at peace. The Mighty Nein sail away from the peace talks a bit lighter than before, but one member of their family isn't as happy as the rest. Beau makes it a point to find out why.

Beau loved being on the ocean, and she’d been looking forward to getting back on the _Ball-Eater_ for a while. Other than the brief unpleasantness with the assassination squad from the deep and briefly losing both Fjord and Orly, Beau had enjoyed the last week or so at sea. It was still surreal to think they had managed to achieve their goal of peace. The tension that hung over the two days of negotiation had been palpable, like a bowstring ready to snap. But it hadn’t, and in the end everyone had gotten what they wanted. The cease fire became a true peace, and the two navies had sailed home without bloodshed.

Two days later, the tedium set back in. The journey to Rumblecusp and Jester’s impending gathering was on its second uneventful day, and Beau had already terrorized Marius, had a rather brusque heart to heart with Shelda, and talked with Orly about a few of his more colorful stories. Midday was slowly giving way to afternoon when Beau realized she hadn’t seen Caleb in almost a day. Mindful of the still-present danger to Fjord being on the water, they'd all slept in close quarters again as Caleb set up the hut. He'd been nearly silent while doing it, only speaking to mutter the incantation, though it wasn’t uncommon for him to brood now and again. Beau had slept in a bit, so the bubble had been gone when she awoke, along with the rest of her friends. 

“Hey, Marius,” she called out to the crewman from her position at the wheel. Orly was sleeping below decks so he could take the night shift, leaving Beau to control the ship.

“Uh, yes?” The mousy little man was looking a bit more rugged these days, though it was still easy to tell he’d come from a more luxurious life before being conscripted onto the _Ball-Eater_. 

“Take over.” She left without another word, trusting him to take her place as she descended below decks in search of Caleb. 

The ship wasn’t terribly large, but it took her a long time to find him. He wasn’t in his room or on the cannon deck, and neither Veth nor Yasha had seen him. Waving off their offers to help, Beau left them to their discussion regarding the proper amount of powder to use in the cannons. She descended to the cargo hold below, where Galan and Jester were busy putting the final touches on a few of the less pressing fixes.

“I haven’t seen him all day,” Jester told her. “I can send him a message if you want?”

Beau supposed he might be trying to avoid them, for whatever brooding wizard reasons, but he probably wouldn’t ignore Jester. “Sure.”

Jester waved her hands in a complicated but familiar pattern before speaking. “Hey, it’s me. So, Beau’s looking for you and she can’t find you anywhere. Did you fall overboard? Did you get eaten by a shark?” She rushed most of the words together, and at the end of her second question she paused as if listening for something, then shook her head. “He got the message, but he’s not answering. Should I try again?”

“No, don’t bother. Thanks for trying.”

“Is he mad at me?” Jester looked genuinely upset by the prospect and Beau made a mental note to thump Caleb for putting that look on her face.

“No, of course not. I’m sure he’s just reading. You know how focused he gets sometimes.” She reached out and clapped Jester’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll find him.”

“Tell him I’m saving a cupcake for him.” Jester turned back to help Galan support a rather large beam of wood, taking the heaviest end while he hammered in the last of the nails. 

“Sure thing.” Beau left them to their repairs and returned to the midships. If Caleb didn’t want to be found then she’d leave him be for now. She passed Veth and Yasha again on her way back to her own room, making a mental note to warn Fjord about the halfling’s plan for a practical demonstration of the cannons when they reached Rumblecusp. Beau shouldered her way through the small door that separated her room from the rest of the midships. It was little more than a ten foot by ten foot closet, barely big enough for a narrow bunk and a chest for personal items, but it was suitable enough for sleeping. 

Caleb sat in the middle of her bed, back against the wall and knees pulled to his chest. He appeared to be sleeping, though she knew him well enough to know that he was merely pretending. It was a thing he did sometimes when they talked; it helped him speak about more personal things if he didn’t look directly at her. With his eyes closed and head laid back, Beau knew it was gonna be a bad one. 

She closed the door and leaned against it, waiting. The boat rocked gently as they cut a path around the southern edge of the Inkclaw Reef. Beau’s sea legs were doing fine, but Caleb was notoriously susceptible to seasickness. She wanted to ask how he was feeling, but she’d likely hit a wall. She’d have to wait him out.

His voice was rough when he finally spoke, quiet even in the near silence. “What penance would you have me pay, Beauregard?”

She had been preparing for a variety of directions that this conversation might go, but his question blindsided her. “What?”

“I have done...terrible things. Things that I thought were necessary for the good of my people. I killed fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters. I took them away from the ones they loved.”

_So it was going to be one of those talks._

Beau pushed away from the door and sat on the edge of the bed. “Caleb, I...that was a long time ago.”

“Not so long, in my mind,” he returned. “I lost eleven years in that asylum. But even if I hadn’t, I will never forget their faces. Faces twisted in agony. Agony that I caused.”

Beau took a slow breath and held it for a count of five before letting it out. Talking him through one of these was nothing new, but something about the set of his shoulders told her this time was different. Whatever was bothering him, it wasn’t one his normal moods. Drawing on past mistakes, Beau decided not to try and decipher his meaning; she’d likely get it wrong and start an argument she’d rather not have. So she tried something new.

“I’m gonna need you to be just a bit clearer, here, Caleb. I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

His eyes shot open, and for a brief moment he stared straight at her before letting his gaze slide off to a point just over her shoulder. “A few days ago, you and Veth spoke rather ardently about justice, about ensuring Essek pays for his wrongdoings,” he explained. 

“He should.”

“Then I ask again. What penance would you have _me_ pay for my wrongdoings?”

Now she understood his meaning, and she didn't like it. Beau set her shoulders and prepared for a fight. “It’s different.”

“It’s _no_ different!” He surged up to his feet, but with nowhere to pace he faltered. “No one made me do those things. I chose to do them because it was what I thought was right. I killed my own parents because I believed what I was doing was _right_.” He turned toward her then, and Beau could see the war he was fighting with himself. 

“Caleb,” Beau stood as well, not quite eye to eye with him but tall enough to get through, “you were a kid manipulated by very powerful people. Essek, as far as I can tell is a full grown adult, capable of understanding the consequences of his actions. He knew stealing those beacons would start a war, and he chose to do it anyway. For his research. Not for the greater good, not for his people, for _himself_.”

“So because he is an adult, he is beyond redemption?”

“I didn’t say that,” Beau sighed, reining in the instinct to raise her voice to get her point across; yelling at Caleb would only cause him to shut down and not hear her, “but he has to be held accountable for his actions. Listen,” she sat and gestured toward the space next to her, hoping they could both calm down before this became a shouting match, “I like the guy. I do. He’s helped us out a lot, and once he finally pulled that enormous rod out of his ass he’s actually pretty cool to hang with. But I can’t just pretend like nothing happened. He lied to us, betrayed our trust. He’s gotta work if he wants it back.”

Caleb sank back down onto the mattress, though every muscle was tensed as if ready to flee. Beau let the silence draw out for a while, hoping he would give her a clue into his thought processes. But he remained still as a stone, and Beau tried to work through things from his perspective. She remembered that night on the boat, listening as Essek laid bare his sins and seemed genuinely sorry to have caused his new friends any harm. But it hadn’t been Essek’s pain that had drawn her attention, but Caleb’s. Her friend had knelt in front of the drow and, with an eloquence she often forgot he possessed, pleaded with the man to reach past his own pride and seek a better way. 

_“The difference between you and I is thinner than a razor.”_

_“I was like you once. Was.”_

“Caleb,” Beau whispered, reaching across the six inch chasm between them to lay her hand on his arm. “Are you mad at us because we want Essek to pay for his crimes or because you think you haven’t paid for yours?” The sharp intake of breath rattled past the grief in his throat and he squeezed his eyes closed against her words as though they pained him. “Because you have,” she insisted. “I won’t pretend to know everything that happened to you while you were under Trent’s thumb, and you don’t have to tell me. But whatever it was has to have been paid back tenfold. You’ve saved so many people, people you didn’t even know. You’ve risked your own life to free people from slavery. You gave hope to an entire nation by returning their stolen relic. You helped stop a war and saved countless lives.” With each deed she listed he flinched and curled inward on himself, but Beau kept a firm hold of his arm to keep him from retreating.

Hunched forward, with his elbows braced on his knees, Caleb looked so much smaller than his nearly six foot frame. “Any good that I have done has been because of you. Because all of you taught me how.”

_You learned it._

His words to Essek flitted through her mind, and she wondered now how much that speech he’d been aiming at himself, too. Beau shifted a bit to face him, tucking one leg under her. “Look, I’m not saying that we’re giving up on Essek. We’re not. Like I said, we like the guy. But it’s gonna be awhile before we trust him. We trust _you_. You’ve earned that, he hasn’t. Not yet.”

“Not yet,” he agreed. “But…”

“But the next step is up to him. He has to want to be better. You know that, right? If he doesn’t try, then…”

“ _Ja_ , I know. I know.”

“And,” she continued, because she could see that he still needed more, “I promise I’ll talk to Veth about toning down all the punishment talk.”

That did it. The weight lifted from his shoulders and he straightened. “ _Danke schön._ ”

“ _Bitte schön_.” They both stood up together, but Caleb swayed in a way that could not be attributed to the movement of the boat. His complexion was even paler than normal, and Beau reached out a hand to steady him. “Dude, when was the last time you ate anything?”

“Uh…”

“Yeah, that’s too long. Come on,” she dragged him out into the hallway and toward the galley. “Caduceus is gonna be pissed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow. Well, we've reached the end of the current episode load, though I do have one or two other episodes that I'm going to go back and look at. As always, if you have any suggestions or requests, please drop a comment and let me know! I love writing these two.
> 
> On a separate but related note, HUGE thanks to Anadyomena for just being an awesome individual and for helping me make the Zemnian a bit more realistic. 
> 
> On a separate but _unrelated_ note, I have begun Campaign 1 against my better judgement (who needs sleep?) so I may delve into C1 fics in the future if inspiration strikes.
> 
>   
> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
>  _Danke schön._ (Thank you very much.)
> 
>  _Bitte schön_ (You're very welcome.)


	20. 2x105 - Rumble at Rumblecusp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before the fight with Vokodo, neither Beau nor Caleb can sleep. They discuss their thoughts, futures and worries.

The sounds of the Rumblecusp jungle at night penetrated the shell of the hut, making the darkness beyond the barrier feel large and looming, like they couldn’t escape the terror that awaited them the next day. Most of the Nein lay haphazardly around the small space, familiarity and necessity contorting them into a perfect jigsaw of sleeping arrangements so no one was left vulnerable. It was cozy, at least. More so now, with Vilya taking up some of that space, leaving the others to squish together a bit more in the humid jungle air. At the edge, his back against a tree that he’d cleverly included just for this purpose, Caleb sat staring out at the dark slumbering shapes of his family.

_My mother’s name is Una. My father’s name is Leofric. I am from Blumenthal. I was schooled in Rexxentrum._

Snippets of his life played across his memory, some a blessing and some a curse, but each one in perfect detail. 

“Hey, Caleb?”

“ _Scheiße_ ,” he breathed, clutching a hand to his heart as though he could physically stop its pounding. “Yes?”

Part of the dark mass moved, and Beauregard’s lithe form separated from the pile as she carefully tiptoed her way over to him. He scooted sideways a bit to make room for her, pressing his hip a bit more firmly into Caduceus’ thigh. The firbolg didn’t stir.

“Sorry,” she whispered as she slid down to her haunches smoothly, “didn’t mean to startle you. I thought everyone was asleep.”

Now that she was closer he could see the gleam of her darkvision goggles on her head. “As did I,” he answered just as quietly. “What is keeping you up?”

“I was gonna ask you that,” she countered.

“You first.”

“Why me first?” She finally settled, folding her legs under her in a sort of meditative pose. 

“Because you are the one who spoke first.”

“Yeah, but I—” 

“We should get some rest,” Caleb deflected, unsure if he had adequate words to explain what he was feeling. He started to shift his weight forward, getting ready to stand, when her hand shot out and clamped around his arm.

“I’m afraid.”

It was enough to bring him back down, and he counted out nearly ten full seconds before his mind found an appropriate response. “Afraid of what?”

“Look, ever since we got to this island, we have had nothing but trouble. We’ve almost lost Caduceus like five times, half of us lost our memory yesterday, and our boat got eaten by a dragon turtle. Not to mention the fact that we barely survived a confrontation with an entity that basically thinks it’s a god and, oh yeah, I almost fucking died to a creepy ghost tree.”

Unbidden, an old Zemnian phrase popped into his brain. “ _In der Furt soll man die Pferde nicht wechseln._ ”

“What was that about a horse?”

Even in near total darkness, he could feel her stare and he sighed. “I suppose it loses something in translation. It basically means we cannot quit now that we have begun.”

“I’m not talking about quitting,” she growled quietly. “I guess I’m just feeling overwhelmed.”

“You are not alone in that feeling, Beauregard.” Slowly he turned his head away from her and out toward their sleeping friends. “I find myself quite overwhelmed tonight, and with far too much pent up energy to sleep.”

“But that’s not all of it, is it?” Her tone dropped slightly, changing her inflection from a question to an observation. He knew there would be no use denying it, though age old instincts brought the denial to his tongue.

“It is...difficult to explain,” he settled on a half-truth, feeling only slightly guilty for it.

“Does it have anything to do with you tossing your anti-scrying thingy at Guacamole?”

Beauregard, more than most of the Nein, was aware just how precious that item had been to him; but in the end his friends were worth far more. Caleb had been completely out of his depth down in Vokodo’s lair, and for several tense moments he had been unsure if they would even make it out alive. If giving it up meant a better chance for the survival of his family, then it was done gladly. But the absence of it made him feel exposed and vulnerable, leaving his mind susceptible to the myriad of other fears and doubts that had been creeping along behind.

“I do not want to forget them,” he whispered to the darkness. The fingers on his arm tightened, and only then did he realize that Beauregard had never let him go. 

“You won’t.” It was eerie how she understood his meaning without any further explanation. Caleb was grateful for it. It had been difficult enough to admit that much; speaking about them now felt too much like exposing their very memory to the dangers of the island.

“You cannot know that. I could awaken tomorrow and have forgotten their names.”

“Then I will tell you their names,” Beauregard answered firmly. “Or Jester or Caduceus will fix it with a spell. You’re not going to forget them.” 

Caleb closed his eyes, replacing the ever-looming darkness of the jungle with the more familiar darkness of his own mind. “What if we all forget? What if we all awaken and our memories have been taken by this creature?” 

The hand on his arm lifted away and he flinched as her fist jabbed into his shoulder lightly. “How do you say ‘don’t worry about things that haven’t happened yet’ in Zemnian?”

His smile was thin, but not entirely humorless. “ _Kümmere Dich nicht um ungelegte Eier._ ”

Beau snorted quietly and settled into a more relaxed posture. “Something about eggs?”

He smiled despite himself and laid his head back against the trunk of the tree. “ _Ja_ ,” he told her. “Something about eggs.”

Next to him, Caduceus shifted in his sleep and let out a quiet moan of discomfort. With barely a thought, Caleb sent Frumpkin from Jester’s side to nuzzle into the firbolg’s chest. 

“He’s had a rough couple of days, huh?” Beauregard whispered over his shoulder. 

“He has. I was afraid that we would not get to him in time down there in the tunnels.” 

“But we did.” Beauregard shifted and settled a bit more against his side. They were pressed hips to shoulders now, and a small voice at the back of Caleb’s mind reminded him that this would have been almost unthinkable a year ago. After a few moments of nothing but the sounds of the jungle, Beau sighed. “How are you holding up? Now that you don’t have the…” she mimed a circle around her neck. “I know how much that thing meant to you.”

“I am okay,” he promised. “I was just happy to get out of there without being boiled. We were definitely not ready for a fight.”

“Speak for yourself,” Beau chuckled. “I’m always ready for a fight.”

He glanced to where he knew the entrance to Vokodo’s lair waited and frowned. In the darkness, he could almost feel the scalding water and hear that horrible, otherworldly voice that had pierced his mind. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but his clever mind had already run every scenario and he knew one thing for certain.

“I do not think you’ll have to wait long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, do I absolutely have some ideas after that last episode! So much Empire Sibling goodness. But I wanted to get this one out first. 
> 
> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**
> 
> _Scheiße_ (Shit!)
> 
>  _In der Furt soll man die Pferde nicht wechseln._ (One should not change the horses in the ford.)
> 
>  _Kümmere Dich nicht um ungelegte Eier._ (Don't worry about unlaid eggs.)


	21. 2x109 - Frigid Propositions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the heart of the Empire, Beau and Caleb have a heart to heart chat in the wake of the letter.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!” Beau swung her fist into the pillow for the third time, frustration, anger and dread warring for top spot in her mind. Their impromptu tour of Caleb’s old stomping grounds had come to an abrupt halt the moment they stepped outside of Vess DeRogna’s home. When that kid— _god he was so young, so eager. Is that what Caleb was like?_ —had called her friend by _that_ name, Beau had felt a lead weight drop into her stomach. And Caleb...Caleb had retreated, back into his shell, away from the delighted nostalgia that had overtaken him that morning. They’d trudged toward the Camarouth Cottage, the five of them forming a loose protective circle around their friend, wary and watching for any further sign of Ikithon’s machinations.

Beau knew every moment of it had been calculated; Ikithon was far too smart and conniving to let even one pen stroke, one footstep, go unplanned. From the initial delivery to the final word, everything had a purpose. And she hated it.

She tried to meditate, but her thoughts kept bouncing around relentlessly in her mind. Failing that, she switched to exercise. A round of pushups and situps did little to quiet the roiling chaos within, but she felt a bit more focused than before. Pushing herself back up to her feet, she shoved the furniture toward the walls to create enough space in the center of the room for some of the grounding forms Zeenoth had tried to show her years ago, back when she had been stubborn and defiant (well, _more_ stubborn and defiant), and though her mind had forgotten them her muscles had not. The familiar movements went a long way into ridding her body of the excess energy nestling deep within, and by the time she finished the final one she felt much better.

The sun was just setting and it would be time for dinner soon, which meant either Caduceus or Jester would be making the rounds to the Nein’s rooms to gather them up. She wanted to check in on Caleb before then, both because she was genuinely concerned about him and because there was a very, very small part of her that worried he might have snuck off and left them in the hours since they all parted for their respective rooms. She didn’t _think_ he would, not really, but Beau had been so ready to give up her place in their family to break Nott’s curse; she had no delusions about Caleb’s capability to ghost them if he thought it would save them. And if— _if_ —he had, Beau would rather be the one to break it to the group before they went knocking on his door.

Using a washrag and the basin of water near the back of the room, Beau toweled off most of the sweat from her workout and slipped on a set of clean clothes before dashing across the hall to Caleb’s room. The Nein had conspired to give him the garden view, rather than a view of the city, hoping to let his mind rest away from the haunting memories that might lie in each rooftop or shop sign. No one was in the hallway, but Beau kept her knock quiet anyway.

“Come in, Beauregard.”

She opened the door and slipped inside, leaning back against it as it closed. “How did you know it was me?”

He was standing next to the window, one shoulder leaning against the frame, his eyes cast out into the dwindling twilight.

“Jester stopped by to gush about her earlier prank at the dancehall, Caduceus brought me a mug of calming tea, Fjord announced dinner in an hour and Yasha brought me a vase of fresh flowers.” He gestured over to where a bright bouquet sat on the nightstand. Beau smiled at them for a moment as Caleb continued. “You were the only one left who hadn’t come to check on me.”

“I guess I was trying to give you space,” Beau shrugged. “Didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it?”

“What is there to talk about?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Beau shoved off the door and stomped over. “Don’t pull that bullshit with me, Widogast. I know you too well.”

His smile was forced and flat, without an ounce of humor. “You do.”

Beau narrowed her eyes at him, extending her senses to try to get a better idea of his mood. But that kind of thing had never been her strong suit, much to Zeenoth’s chagrin. She was much better at punching the problems out of things. 

“Hey,” she softened her tone, forcing the anger back down for now. There would be time for it later— _like tomorrow at Ikithon’s “reunion,"_ she reveled silently. “We could just, like, not go.”

“And you don’t think slighting a man like him will have consequences?”

“Never really been a fan of worrying about consequences.”

That brought a bit of amusement with his next smile, and he turned to lean his back against the wall. “ _You are a wonder sometimes_.”

“Only sometimes?”

She expected another witty retort from him, or at least an acknowledgement of her point, but he simply stared, his brow furrowing deeper. “ _How well can you understand what I’m saying right now?_ ”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “I mean, I know we don’t always communicate very well, especially in times of extreme stress, but I’m pretty sure I can usually understand what you’re saying, at least.”

“Beauregard,” he rose to his full height and took a step toward her. “ _I have been speaking in Zemnian. And unless you have been hitting the books harder than I thought, you should at least be having some trouble following me._ ”

“Huh?” Beauregard blinked, shaking her head slightly as she let her focus slip away from the connection between them. “Weird.”

“I’m guessing that’s...new?” Caleb questioned.

“Uh, yeah. Sort of.” She rubbed at her forehead with two fingers to erase the last of the lingering twinge. “I mean, back at that dancehall place, I could understand some of the curses and things people were saying after Jester dropped that oops stone. But I thought it was because curses were, like, some of the first things I learned.”

“Perhaps you should speak to Dairon about this,” Caleb moved over to the bedside and sat down. “At the very least, it could come in handy in the future if you are able to understand any language.”

Beau was so distracted by her newfound superpower that it took her a moment to realize what he’d done. “Oh no,” she followed him to the bed and plopped heavily onto the mattress next to him. He was jostled, but he made no effort to move away from her. “We were talking about your problems, not any potentially useful—albeit kind of badass—new monk shit I might have.”

He was silent for several long seconds, then he sighed. “I ask again, what is there to talk about?”

“I mean, _so_ much, dude.” Her joke fell flat but she pressed on. “I mean, we don’t have time to go through all of it right now, though. How about the pressing shit. How do you feel about the dinner invitation?”

“I feel that he is planning something, I just don’t know what.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” Beau flopped backwards onto the bed, leaving her legs dangling over the side. It only took a few seconds for Caleb to join her. “If you’re set on going, we’re going with you. You know that, right?”

“ _Ja_ , I know. I would not want to go without all of you.” Caleb snapped his fingers to summon Frumpkin onto his stomach. He scratched the cat behind his ears for a while before the little creature moved not-so-gingerly to Beau’s stomach. 

“ _Oof_ ,” Beau hissed, “easy there, buddy. Still healing a bit from almost getting bitten in half by a T-Rex.” She softened her words with more ear scratches until Frumpkin finally moved back to Caleb.

“Are your scars still bothering you?”

“Are yours?”

“Ah, but my scars are not very cool. At least you get to show yours off to Yasha.”

She elbowed him lightly, mindful of his frail physique. “Most of them.” The words slipped out too quickly for her to bite down on them, three quick syllables that held far too much truth and emotion. Unfortunately for her, Caleb was too perceptive to let it slide.

“I didn’t want to interrupt earlier,” he began slowly, “because it seemed like you were having a moment. But I am also very glad that she did not kill you.”

Beau rubbed absently at the jagged scar in the center of her chest. It didn’t hurt anymore—not physically anyway—but each time she recalled that moment lying on the cold stone floor of the Chantry, Beau couldn’t help but experience a lance of something like terror at what could have happened.

“Yeah, well,” Beau cleared her throat, “I told you last time we were here that it would take more than that to get rid of me.”

His chuckle was quiet, but genuine. “That goes both ways, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Beau fixed her eyes firmly to the ceiling, unwilling to chance catching his gaze. 

“I mean you do not have to worry about growing distant from us, as you mentioned on Rumblecusp. You are stuck with us, Beauregard Lionett.”

Something hot stung the inner corners of her eyes and she sniffed wetly. “I mean, you can’t promise that, but it’s cool.” Frumpkin nudged his way back onto her chest, his warm nose nuzzling her neck insistently. 

Caleb sat up, twisting a bit toward her as he peered down. “I knew in coming back home there would be things that we come up against that would fall into...ah, blindspots, I suppose. I don’t fully trust myself here, for reasons I’m sure you can understand.” She was sure he had a point, but rather than rush him along she waited him out.

“As I said, you are my partner,” he continued, “as a fellow Empire child, yes, but also as someone who was taught and trained in one of its institutions. We have similar goals, you and I, and I trust you. If you do not wish for me to accept the dinner invitation, then I will not. If you feel it’s too dangerous, that there is nothing to gain from going, then we will simply ignore it and continue our work with DeRogna. But do not ever doubt that, no matter what happens, all of you—the Nein—are my family and I will do whatever it takes to keep this family together.”

Beau rolled slowly to her feet, mindful not to jostle Frumpkin too much. He meowed pitifully and lifted his hind leg to clean himself, an act she was fairly certain he didn’t need to do in the first place. She took the chastisement in stride and straightened her clothes.

“Alright, all this mushy stuff is giving me a rash. Come on. Hug it out and we’ll head to dinner.”

He stood up next to her stiffly and raised his arms, and though he still held himself a bit too rigidly, it was a vast improvement over some of the other hugs they’d shared. She let him go after a few long seconds and walked to the door. 

With her hand on the knob, she turned her head to cock one eyebrow at him expectantly. “You coming?”

Caleb snapped his fingers, poofing Frumpkin back to wherever his familiar went when he was not on this plane, before following after her.

“ _Ja_ , all in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose the last chapter marked the end of me writing out phrases in ~~German~~ Zemnian. Beau's badass new ability allows her to understand any spoken language. I may still use it from time to time, though, because while other creatures can understand her as well, she still only speaks the languages she's proficient with.
> 
> Thanks to TiamatZX for assisting with the prompt for this chapter. I feel like the Empire Siblings are hitting their stride now. Judging from Marisha's expressions and reactions, Beau _really_ wants to punch Ikithon in the face. I do not blame her.


	22. 2x123 - Fair-Weather Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a narrow escape from their midnight battle with the Tombtakers, Caleb and Beau take stock and seek comfort.

They were all nearly frozen through by the time they felt safe enough to rest. Caduceus had healed most of Beau’s wounds, but blood had frozen to her cheeks and neck from where it had leaked from her eyes, nose and mouth. Yasha was nearly supporting her entire weight as they fell in a heap behind a large outcropping as Caleb pulled his spellbook from his coat.

“Ten minutes,” he mumbled, lips numb and blue. His quiet incantation was whipped away by the wind as Fjord and Veth took up sentry positions to ensure they weren’t being followed.

“Are you alright?”

Yasha’s question was nearly inaudible to Beau, who was huddled down into the extra layer that had fallen on her shoulders sometime during their escape. The barbarian had to be cold in just her heavier clothes and armor, but it didn’t seem to bother her.

“F-f-fine.” Beau’s teeth chattered and she clamped down against a violent shiver. The blood loss was not helping her core temperature, and if she didn’t get warm soon it could be bad. 

“She’s gonna freeze,” Yasha growled at the others, though none took offense. Caleb kept mumbling his spell, focused on getting the dome up as quickly as possible. Jester and Caduceus did what they could for the party’s wounds, but the cold still bit at their exposed skin like a wild animal. 

In a very quick motion, Yasha pulled the larger coat from Beau’s shoulders and gathered the monk against her frame, draping the garment back over her once she was settled. “You’re gonna be okay,” she promised softly, adjusting as Beau nestled further into her warmth and sagged bonelessly. “Hey, don’t go to sleep. Not yet, okay. Stay awake, Beau.”

She tried to listen, but the exhaustion and cold combined to sap the last of her energy away and her eyes fell shut.

When she woke up, she was warm and pressed between two larger bodies. She pushed back from Caduceus’ softer form, surprised when the arm around her waist tightened in response. Behind her, Yasha mumbled in her sleep but didn’t wake as Beau stirred. She carefully sat up and blinked into the darkness, trying to make out anything.

“Welcome back.” Caleb’s soft tenor startled her, and she twisted her head quickly. Blood rushed in her head and her vision swam for a moment, but it faded after a moment. 

“How long was I out?”

He paused for a moment. “Six hours, thirteen minutes, and forty-six seconds.”

“God, you’re weird.”

“Nice to see your temperament was not affected by your near death experience.” His eyes had gone back down to his book, and the soft firelight held in his palm was just enough to illuminate the page without disturbing their sleeping friends. 

Beau was grateful for her monk training as she slowly crawled over the pile of bodies to sit next to him, using her long limbs to keep her weight from jostling them. By the time she came to rest, she was breathing hard and her muscles were trembling, but she refused to let Caleb see.

“Dude, if I let near death experiences affect my temperament, I’d have let my temperament be affected like...a dozen times.” As comebacks went, it was not her best, but she didn’t care. “What are you reading?” She could tell it wasn’t his spellbook, but some of the writing looked odd.

“I am just reviewing all of my notes about what has happened in the last couple of days. It’s been...quite an adventure.” His tone lilted in mock amusement and Beau snorted.

“That is a word for it.” She rubbed the back of her left hand absently. “Are you worried that he’ll be able to do something with these?”

“I do not know. But I will find out. I promise.”

“ _We_ will find out,” she corrected. “Whatever the fuck is going on out here, we need to stop it.”

“Well, we’re safe for now, at least from his gaze.” Caleb tapped his chest with two fingers, and in the faint firelight emanating from his hand she could see the cord that held the amulet of nondetection. The last Beau knew, Jester had been in possession of it; she must have given it to him earlier to protect them from Lucien’s prying eyes. 

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Caleb closed his book and sighed. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He paused, gathering his thoughts. “When he dispelled my polymorph, it left Caduceus and I in danger. Had you not landed between us and Lucien, it may have been me that took the brunt of his anger.”

_“Besser ich als du.”_

Caleb huffed humorlessly, his brow furrowed with worry. When he spoke again, she knew he was speaking Zemnian, though her mind automatically translated it. 

_“And why would that be a phrase you wanted to learn?”_

It was odd, listening to him speak Zemnian but understanding the words crystal clear in her mind. The first time it had happened, she had been so wrapped up in her concern for their upcoming dinner with Ikithon that she hadn’t noticed the odd duality between the spoken words and the mental translation. But here in the quiet, in the aftermath of nearly losing everyone she loved, she was hyper aware of everything.

Beau picked at her nails for a moment, barely able to make out her dry, cracked skin. She noted with a rather wry smirk that Caleb had been right; her cuticles were a mess. She sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the twinge of pain that shot through her chest. 

_“What are you thinking about?”_

“How this was the second time we’d come up against a group that we underestimated and then had to leave Molly’s body behind.”

_“I know that there has been some hope on that front, but I am beginning to think the friend we knew is truly gone.”_

“Yeah…”

They fell quiet again, and Beau listened to the comforting sounds of her family sleeping safely. Jester and Fjord were snuggled together on the far side, Fjord’s back to the dome. Veth was in the very center, a small ball huddled under her thick coat. Zoran’s pack with the second threshold crest sat next to her, safe in the middle of the party. Caduceus had shifted to fill the space left by Beau, and his snoring combined with Yasha’s to create a soothing, steady stream of sound. 

“Are you scared?” she blurted out, wincing at how loud her voice was in the small space. Snow had accumulated on top of the dome, creating the illusion of a cozy little nook. 

“Of?” He had switched back to Common, though he was much quieter. 

“Dude, what _isn’t_ there to be scared of out here? We’ve got a cult trying to bring back a terrifying eldritch living city lost in the Astral Sea, gross monstrous worms that could probably burrow up from under us at any moment, oh, and an ancient fucking white dragon that wanted us dead before and _definitely_ wants us dead now.”

“Breathe.”

She inhaled slowly, surprised to find her chest and throat tight with emotion. She was too dehydrated to cry, but she turned her head away from him anyway. 

“Thanks,” she muttered after a few seconds.

“For what?” he echoed her earlier response with a slight smile.

“Pulling me off the dragon. For, like, half a second I was worried she was gonna fly off with me.” She tried to sound amused, like she was joking, but it had always been hard to fool Caleb. 

“We would have come after you.”

“Lucien wouldn’t have let you.”

“ _Fuck_ him.” He shifted next to her, and his free hand that wasn’t cradling a tiny flame fell to her shoulder and squeezed. “We would have come for you, Beauregard. You nearly died saving me and then again retrieving Caduceus. Do not think for a moment we would leave you to any fate that doesn’t have you safe with us.” He was heated now, quiet but sure, and she could not argue. In his eyes she saw everything he wasn’t saying, the bond they shared with each other and the rest of their ragtag family.

A yawn cut off any reply she could muster, and her eyelids drooped heavily. “M’kay.”

He raised his arm in invitation. “Sleep, Beauregard. We have about an hour and a half before the dome vanishes and we need to get moving.”

She leaned over and scooted until her head was resting on his thigh. He was scrawny enough that her neck wasn’t at a terrible angle, and it didn’t take long for her exhaustion to force her muscles to relax. Just as she was slipping under, Caleb’s arm moved over her, compressing her slightly for a moment, before a weight fell on her shoulder. 

Beau’s left eye opened to glare up at him accusingly, though her view of his face was blocked by a dark shape. “Are you using me to prop up your book?”

“ _Gute Nacht_ , Beauregard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Zemnian to Common Translation Guide:**  
>  _Besser ich als du._ (Better me than you.)  
>  _Gute Nacht._ (Good night.)

**Author's Note:**

> Empire Siblings is my jam, y'all. Expect this to be the bulk of CR content from me. Title is from the Colbie Caillat song, "Never Gonna Let You Down."


End file.
